


Ash/Athena Crossover AU

by itsalwaystheapocalypse, whump_tr0pes



Series: Honor Bound Universe [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Betrayal, Captivity, Consensual Sex, Crossover, Dissociation, Drunken Kissing, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Happy Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Making Out, Multi, On the Run, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Safehouses, Sex Toys, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, Whump, shock collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 68,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsalwaystheapocalypse/pseuds/itsalwaystheapocalypse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whump_tr0pes/pseuds/whump_tr0pes
Summary: Ryan’s family syndicate hates Gavin’s family and offers the team safe passage when they go through their territory… as long as they agree to stay under their direct supervision for a long weekend while they lay low after being nearly caught.The Michaelson Group offers a safehouse, but they send their sons - one of whom was held and tortured, along with his partner, by mercenary twins for years - to keep an eye on the team and make sure they don’t do anything stupid to draw attention.Gavin is convinced he’s going to be abducted and killed because of who he is. Ryan is very friendly to him and makes more than a few comments trying to get various team members alone, which is not reassuring to anyone.It’s just a few days.What could possibly go wrong?
Series: Honor Bound Universe [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595560
Comments: 29
Kudos: 51





	1. Safe Passage

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover with itsalwaystheapocalypse's Danny, Ryan, and Nate from their Daniel Michaelson fic and whumpy_fics's Isaac, Sam, Gray, Tori, Vera, Finn, Ellis, and Gavin from their Honor Bound fic. Check out their pages for the rest of the rest of these characters' stories!

“So,” Sam said brightly, apparently unaware of the undercurrents of tension moving through the room, “you live here?”

Danny ducked his head, fiddling with the cookies for a moment. “Um. Yes. Me and Nate. Since I, um, came home."

“And Nate’s your boyfriend?” Sam asked, their mouth half full of their third cookie.

Danny fingered the ring on his left hand. “Yeah. My boyfriend.” He smiled faintly.

Vera noticed his hands moving. They were scarred, like seemingly every other part of him, raised lines that followed the traceries of veins. "Oh. And you… you stay out of the way of the… syndicates?” She chewed her lip.

Danny chuckled a little under his breath. “I’ve always found that word so… sinister. _Syndicates,”_ he said slowly, deepening his voice until the effect was nothing short of dramatic.

Gavin scoffed. “Right. Who even came up with that, anyway?”

Danny flinched a little at the sound of his voice. “Right.” He paused for a moment, and his hand went up to rub at the line of scars on his face. Isaac cast his eyes down, and Danny looked at him, before carefully lowering his hand. “Oh. Um. Do you want to see your rooms? Or we could… um… wait…” He ducked his head. “For Ryan and Nate to get back. We could do that. But, but that's… up to you."

Gray smiled gently. “That sounds fine. We can stay here until they get back, if you like.” They stepped towards the table and looked around the room. “It’s a beautiful kitchen.”

Danny grinned. “Thank you. It’s my, my favorite room. Except for the living room, maybe. There’s a fireplace that we turn on when it’s chilly, and the couch is really, um, comfortable.”

“That sounds nice,” Vera said with a smile. She was starting to put the pieces together of what his captivity had looked like for him. Her chest felt a little heavy at the thought. “Maybe we can hang out there after dinner.”

“Okay.” Danny looked around at the others. “Would any of you like a cookie? They’re um, fresh and I’ve got some more in the oven…” They nodded in assent. As they moved in to take some cookies he sidestepped out of the way. Putting himself between them and the door. Vera watched the way he moved, ensuring no one was close enough to accidentally brush against or touch him. 

Finn came away with three clutched in their hands and one dangling from their mouth. “It’s been forever since we had… well, anything this good,” they said as they took a bite.

The kitchen was quiet for a moment save for the sound of chewing. A timer dinged and Danny moved to pull out the last sheet. A fresh waft of delicious cookie smell moved through the air.

Danny’s ears perked up before anyone else’s at the sound of the door opening. His smile grew wide again. The sound of voices moved closer to the kitchen until Nate and Ryan both walked in, looking a little strained in their postures.

“Everything’s good!” Ryan said cheerfully. “All set.”

“Thank you again,” Gray said. “We’re extremely grateful.”

Gavin cast his eyes at the floor as Gray said it. Ryan’s gaze moved to him again and stayed fixed there for a moment. Then he lifted his chin and looked to the others. “How about a tour?” He held his arm towards the door of the kitchen.

Sam stepped forward with a grin and followed him out. The others came behind, a little more warily. Nate and Danny brought up the rear.

“If Sam isn’t in love with this guy by the end of the weekend I’ll be fucking shocked,” Vera murmured to Tori.

Tori licked her lips. “If we all aren’t, I’ll be at least a little disappointed.”

Vera’s lips quirked up in a smile. “…really?” She blew out an amused breath. “I mean, if we’re all –”

Tori cleared her throat when she saw Ryan look back at her. Both women blushed as he grinned at them.

“So my brother will be on the first floor,” Ryan said cheerfully. Vera glanced back at Nate just in time to see him sigh heavily and roll his eyes. Ryan guided them all to a grand spiral staircase that took them up a floor. He gestured to the room right next to the stairs. “This is for Isaac and Sam, I wasn’t sure if… you…” He tilted his head at them, watching their reactions.

Sam blinked for a moment, their eyes torn, seemingly for the first time, from Ryan’s face to look at Isaac. “Oh. We’re not… I mean…”

“I don’t mind bunking with them,” Isaac said evenly with a shrug.

“Mm hm.” Ryan’s lips quirked up in a smile as his eyes returned to Sam. “Great. That's _exactly_ what I was hoping to hear.” He kept walking down the hall. “Finn and Ellis here…” He motioned to the bedroom just across the way from the first. “Bathroom here… Vera and Tori, you’re here…” He reached the end of the hall. “This one is for Gray,” he motioned to the left. “And this one’s mine.” His hand rested on the doorframe as he turned back to the others and flashed a brilliant smile. “But anyone’s welcome to join, if they wish.” Nate again rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, muttering something under his breath. 

“Where’s my room?” Gavin asked warily.

“It’s upstairs. Follow me.” He turned and led the group back to the stairs.

“Is your b- brother going to, to s- sleep with every sing, single one of our g- guests?” Nate whispered to Danny.

“I think he’ll try,” Danny whispered back.

They all made their way up the stairs to the third floor.

“Up here we’ve got the workout room, the office if you’ve got business to do, and some of the books that didn’t fit downstairs.” Ryan motioned to a room lined on every wall with bookshelves. Ellis lingered at the door of that one. “If you like a book, let us know, and unless it's Nate's, feel free to take it with you. We'll just get another copy. Oh, and this is your room, Gavin.” He motioned to a small bedroom near the back.

“Oh,” Gavin said, sounding disappointed. “It’s… um…” Isaac elbowed him in the ribs again. “Um…”

Gray sighed and turned to Ryan. “Thank you. Very much. We’re all very grateful that you’ve put us up in such comfort. It’s much more than we could ask for.”

“If you keep elbowing me like that you’re going to break a rib,” Gavin hissed at Isaac.

“You keep being a little bitchboy and I’ll break your _neck_ ,” Vera whispered.

Ryan clapped his hands together. “Well! I’ll let you get settled. Then if you like we could all hang out until dinner. Although if you’d like some privacy and time to rest, that would also be fine.” He winked at Sam. “Whatever _you_ need, I’m at your disposal.” He turned and walked back down the stairs. 

"I'm, I'm going to start on dinner," Danny said, flashing an uncertain smile before he and Nate moved to follow his brother. "If you, um, want to help, you can? But I can handle it. And, obviously if you want more cookies. Or something to, to drink… but I need to start cooking."

"Already?" Isaac asked, looking out a window near the stairs and then back. "It can't even be three yet."

"Tonight's meal takes a while to make," Danny said softly, looking nervous, as though he expected Isaac to be angry at him for speaking. "I, um. I feel better in the kitchen…" He hesitated, as if there was more he wanted to say, and then all but fled down the stairs.

Nate fixed Isaac with a long, thoughtful stare, and then followed Danny, the team left alone to get settled in their rooms.


	2. Whiskey and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac wakes up from a nightmare and wanders downstairs for a drink, only to find Danny Michaelson already up for the same reason. Bonding (and drunken making out) ensues.

Isaac came out of sleep fighting for air through a what felt like a pinhole to breathe through, a panicked gasp lodged somewhere midway down his throat. 

He was in an unfamiliar bed, too nice of a bed, too richly luxurious - the pillows were soft and there were so  _ many _ . There were warm fuzzy blankets draped over him and the room smelled faintly like vanilla and tobacco. It was a space designed for absolute relaxation, and a faint breeze blew through from the open (but barred) window, rustling the long, semi-sheer drapes that ran to the floor.

Where the fuck _was_ he?

For a second, as he moved to push himself up to sitting, Isaac was  _ absolutely sure  _ the door to the bedroom was locked, and he wasn’t going  _ anywhere.  _

He felt off-balance, coming out of a nightmare where something… what had happened? He had a sense of deep-seated terror, a soft voice whispering  _ you’re never leaving this room again _ in his ear. That was all he could remember.

It was already fading, the way that nightmares slip away and leave the aftermath and the fear without the context to explain it.

His heart was pounding in his chest like it’d try to break its way through, and he took a deep breath, blinking rapidly, trying to calm himself down.

Next to him, there was a soft movement in the bed, and Isaac jerked so hard to the side he rolled right off the bed in a tangle of sheets wrapped around his ankles, hitting the ground with a muffled  _ thump  _ as he landed on a soft, plush rug that was nearly as thick as the bed itself. 

He stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding, blinking as he realized the ceiling above his head was  _ painted _ with a _ jungle scene _ . He was staring at a tiger, its jaws open wide over the back of some kind of lizard that clearly didn’t know it was there.

“Am I the lizard…?” Isaac asked, hearing his own voice hoarse and wavering.

He was being  _ held here.  _ The door was locked, he  _ knew the door was locked.  _ The Michaelsons were going to keep them here, Gray’s instincts had been wrong. They had been taken captive all over again but it was all of them this time, there was nothing he could do to save anyone.

Worse than that, he was locked in and there was _someone else in the bed._ He didn’t know how it had happened but he was locked in a bedroom with _someone else, someone-_

“Isaac…?” Sam’s voice slurred, bleary with sleep, and his head jerked over to stare as Sam shifted around to look back down at him from up on the bed. Their curly hair was an absolute mess, smashed flat on one side and nearly haloing their head on the other, and they rubbed at one eye, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “You okay?”

“Uh…” Isaac took a deep, shaky breath, raking one hand back through his hair, looking around. “Y-Yeah, Sam, I’m fine. Just fell out of bed, I guess. I’ll just, uh…”

He had to see if the door was locked. He  _ had to.  _ There was still worry beating in the back of his mind, that they’d all been locked in like guests in some weird horror movie. It wasn’t an impossible thought, either.

The Michaelsons could just keep them here. Gray had taken a huge risk, agreeing to this to get through the territory safely, and what if this family couldn’t be trusted? What if their hatred for the Stormbecks wasn’t stronger than their greed? They could trade them back to Gavin’s family or… or worse, somehow, and he wasn’t sure what could be worse than what he’d already survived or what might be in store for the if they were dragged back, but…

_ What if the Michaelsons took one look at you and just  _ knew  _ that you’re so fucking entertaining to break? _

“I’ll just go splash some water on my face,” Isaac said a little gruffly, getting to his feet, feeling an ache along his back. Phantom pains he was starting to get used to feeling, hints of fire along the places where the whip had come down. “Go back to sleep, Sam, I’m okay.”

Sam squinted at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ sure.”

They looked like they wanted to argue, but exhaustion won out and they flopped back onto the bed. Sam wrapped themself up tightly in all the blankets until one side of the bed was absolutely devoid of even a single corner of the sheets.

"I'm going to want some of those back when I come back, you know," Isaac said, fighting a smile. 

"Wish you th' best of luck takin’ ‘em," Sam muttered from deep within the little Sam burrito they had made. 

Isaac sighed, good-naturedly, and padded barefoot to the door. He hesitated with his hand out, swallowing, just an inch from trying to open it. As long as he didn't, he wouldn't know for sure if it was locked or not, if he'd had a nightmare or a premonition.

_ It’s not going to open. You and Sam are locked in this room, with bars on the windows and a door you can’t get out of, and they’ll come and tell you that you’re never leaving alive. _

He curved his fingers around the gilded handle and firmly pushed it down.

_ It’s not going to open, Isaac. _

It opened easily, swinging in on silent hinges to show him the hallway. For a half-second he jumped at the sight of a man staring right at him… before he realized it was his own reflection. There was a large mirror with a gold frame hung on the wall opposite the door. He hadn't really noticed it earlier, but he was  _ very  _ aware of it now.

Isaac closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, and stood for just a second, listening. Someone was snoring loud enough to hear - he was pretty sure that was Gray - and he was  _ also _ pretty sure he heard low voices coming from Ryan Michaelson's room, low soft male laughter followed up by a voice he  _ knew. _

_ Two voices  _ he knew.

Well,  _ that  _ didn’t take long.

“I need a drink,” Isaac murmured, dragging a hand down his face. He could see the starry sky through the window next to the stairwell, moonlight shining in well enough to nearly light the dark hallway. He rolled his eyes upward, slowly looking at the ceiling above him, wondering if Gavin was asleep yet, or still whining to the wall about how small his  _ queen-sized  _ bed was.

How was it Ryan and Daniel Michaelson had been so polite and nice and Gavin Stormbeck was such a piece of whiny, snivelling shit?

_ Maybe Ryan and Danny’s parents don’t teach their children to cut people up for fun. Or to be better at pretending they don't, anyway. _

He was thinking too much. 

Isaac set his jaw, carefully blanked his mind, and made his way down the winding staircase, listening to the sounds of the house settling around him. This house was older than any place he’d seen still standing, evidence of the time before the syndicates - if you ignored the more newly-added bars on the windows and the fact that he was fairly certain the front door was bulletproof. 

There was greenery  _ everywhere,  _ now that he thought about it. Plants on shelves and in corners, ivy growing up the outside of the house, a heavily wooded area out back that they had been warned to not go in without Nate or Ryan giving them explicit permission.

“... in case it gets  _ shoot-y,”  _ Isaac said to himself as he stepped onto the first floor, lips twisting with wry humour, stretching his arms up over his head.

"Is-... Is s-someone there?"

The voice was slightly wavering, a little worried. Isaac turned, still mid-stretch, to see Danny Michaelson, a nearly looming presence in the open doorway to the kitchen, peering out at him. 

"It's just me," Isaac said, opening his palms wide where they were held above his head, in a  _ don't shoot  _ gesture. "Uh. Isaac. I don't know why I thought you'd know who 'me' is in the dark…"

"No, I… I recognized your… hi." Danny hesitated, eyes dropping, and Isaac realized his shirt had ridden up to show a wide band of his stomach, criss-crossed with scarring from Gavin’s knife. He quickly dropped his arms, shirt falling back down to cover them up. "What, um… are you doing up?"

"Could, ah, ask you the same."

"Oh. Um." Danny ducked his head, smiling with an odd, shame-faced expression. His scars were nearly invisible in the blueish white moonlight coming through the windows, warm light from the kitchen making him nearly a silhouette. "Had a nightmare, thought drinking would, um, would help. You?"

"Yeah… same reason, same thought."

Danny blinked at him, then he laughed - it was a low, soft laugh, and Isaac had the distinct feeling that if he so much as acknowledged it, Danny would not laugh again. “Well, sit on the couch, then. I’ll get you… I’ll get you a glass.”

Isaac nodded and watched him duck back into the kitchen before he moved quietly over to the ‘formal family room’ or whatever Ryan had called it, looking around at the  _ multiple  _ couches that took up the seemingly cavernous space before he settled on a large sectional nearly wide enough to be a bed in and of itself, sitting down only to nearly sink into the cushions, letting out a soft breath.

Seeing Danny made his nightmare, and his certainty when he’d first woken up that they were locked in and never getting out, seem ridiculous, nearly insanely absurd. Gray had said Danny lived through  _ something similar to Vera’s experience  _ with Gavin’s father, that his captivity had lasted  _ years.  _ He had a feeling the shy, nervous redhead would never have been here if anything like that had been planned.

Granted, he could see Ryan Michaelson being just fine with it if it meant  _ Sam  _ would stick around… Isaac caught himself smiling again, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temples with his fingers. 

Danny came back out with a bottle in one hand and two whiskey glasses braced between his arm and his ribs.

“Why not hold them with your hand?” Isaac asked, blinking, as Danny came around the side of the couch and settled close - but not too close - to him.

“I don’t have the best grip with my, um, my hands any longer,” Danny said with a shrug, not quite looking at him. He set the glasses down on the coffee table before pouring them each a good three fingers of brown liquor with practiced expertise. 

“You’re good at that,” Isaac said softly. “I always have to keep evening out the pour for what feels like  _ minutes  _ to get everyone the same amount.”

Danny looked up at him, considering, and then said softly, “I had to be good at it, for  _ them.” _

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Isaac felt his face burn, embarrassed that he’d manage to so thoroughly tapdance right into uncomfortable territory, but Danny just smiled at him and pushed his glass closer, quickly pulling his hand back before Isaac could reach out. 

“No problem. You wouldn’t know.” Danny picked his own glass up, taking a long drink, and Isaac followed suit. 

It was whiskey, hints of vanilla - what was it with the Michaelsons and vanilla? - and it went down so smoothly he could nearly drink it like water. He  _ was  _ drinking it like water, he realized only after a good third of it was already gone, and he’d barely even taken a breath in between drinks. 

“You did it, too,” Danny said, his voice low enough that Isaac nearly missed it over the welcome warmth beginning to spread through his shoulders, relaxing muscles that felt like they never stopped being tense. When Isaac blinked at him, he pointed at the scar that ran over Isaac’s left forearm. “You were… held.”

“Um. Yeah.” Isaac found himself gulping even  _ more _ , and made himself put the glass down on the table, nervously rubbing at the skin between thumb and forefinger with his other hand. “I was. Not for, uh, not for nearly as long as you, not by a longshot.”

“Pain is relative,” Danny said quickly, in the practiced cadence of someone who had tried to memorize the phrase. “It doesn’t, um, matter how long. What matters is that it  _ happened.  _ I, um, I thought so when I, I saw you…” His voice trailed off and he took another drink, and Isaac realized Danny was drinking pretty fast, too.

“Shit. So you  _ can  _ tell just from looking at me,” Isaac muttered, and Danny laughed again, surprising enough in the moment to make Isaac look back up at him. The warm blue eyes were sparkling with real humor, in a way he hadn’t seen before.

But then, Danny was drinking before Isaac ever came downstairs.

“No. I mean, um, yes.  _ I can.  _ And Nate can. When you’ve, um, been there… you can see it in each other, I think.” He gave Isaac a slightly nervous smile, and picked up the glass to hand it to him again. Isaac took it with a soft thanks and took another drink, wondering if Danny was  _ trying  _ to get him drunk, or if he was just trying to be nice.

_ Get you drunk and you wake up and then you really  _ are  _ locked in, and it was all part of some sadistic fucking game, just like Gavin- _

“I know because I, um, I have them, too,” Danny said, and tapped with one finger the scars on the back of the hand that held his own glass. “Scars. This was, um, knives. Your stomach was knives?”

“How do you-”

“When you were stretching,” Danny said, shyly. “Not that I was  _ looking.  _ I just… saw them.”

“Oh.” Isaac felt his face redden again, and he shrugged, trying to look casual and uncaring about it, his eyes drifting over to the windows that ran along the front of the house. Barred, in a subtle way he hadn’t picked up on at first. This was a sweet, lovely little country house - and it was also a fortress. Even as he looked, he saw the shadow of one of the Michaelsons’ armed men move past, walking the grounds, armed to the teeth. “Yeah. That was knives.”

When he was Gavin’s favorite fucking entertainment. And now he had to cart him around and save his  _ life,  _ because he was supposed to be  _ better  _ than Gavin, even if he knew, deep down, that he wasn’t.

The two fell into not-quite-awkward silence, punctuated only by the sound of the bottle when Danny picked it back up and refilled both their glasses once they were empty. Isaac was watching more closely this time, and he could see a flicker of emptiness in Danny’s face when he did it, as though he were sliding somewhere back into himself, just for a fraction of a second, as he did something he had done in captivity.

It reminded Isaac uneasily of Vera - and made him wonder if it would remind any of the rest of the team of  _ him. _

“What was your nightmare?” Danny asked, looking up at him. It was weird, to sit next to such a tall man hunched over to make himself so small, and see him look  _ up at you,  _ with big eyes. 

“What?” Isaac was feeling the whiskey, now - he could feel the flush of it in his face, warm under his skin, relaxed back into the couch now instead of sitting up straight and tense. 

“Why you woke up. You said you had, um, nightmares, and wanted to drink. What was your nightmare?” Danny grinned at him, a flash of the kind of smile he’d given his brother and the other one - Nate - earlier. Less shy, now that he also had plenty of whiskey in him. 

He was… kind of cute, Isaac thought, and carefully looked away before that thought got any further away from him or - in the most horrifying possibility - found its way out of his mouth. “Um. I just… I don’t really remember. I know I was dreaming that we were locked in, that you had, uh, decided to-”

“Keep you?” Danny tilted his head, a little hair falling over one eye. Isaac was just drunk enough to lean forward and push it back out of the way - but not drunk enough to miss the way Danny went very, very still, almost instantly, at the touch.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” Isaac said, jerking his hand back like maybe he’d burned him. “Shit. Gray said you don’t like touch, that was part of our, uh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s not as bad when I’m drunk? It’s okay. You’re okay. You’ve, um, you’ve been there, too…” Danny trailed off. “That makes it easier. When someone has, um, has… been there, too.”

“Not like  _ that,” _ Isaac said quickly. “I mean. Shit. I’m too drunk not to fuck this whole conversation up, Daniel.”

“Danny. My… not a lot of, um, people call me Daniel. I like Danny better. That’s okay, I’m drunk enough that this whole… conversation… is going pretty well from, um, my perspective.” Danny grinned at him again, and he found himself smiling back. “So you thought we were, um, going to keep you here?”

“Yeah. I mean. It’s just a bad dream, but we’ve been running from… so many fucking people. I think my brain just… doesn’t want to admit there’s anyone out there who doesn't have an ulterior motive.”

“Oh, we do.” Isaac felt a vague sense of alarm before Danny only shook his head and laughed again, sitting more upright. “Sorry. I just mean, we’re not doing this because we’re good people, my mother just wants to piss off the Stormbecks. They stole some, um, some stuff from her a long time ago, and she figures, why not? But we wouldn’t, uh, hold you.” Danny glanced away, over at the window outside. Looking at the driveway lined with trees gently swaying in the nighttime breeze. "We don’t… do that.” 

“Well… good. I’m glad my nightmare was as ridiculous as it sounded. What was yours?” 

“My nightmare?” Danny looked back at him, hesitating, and then just shrugged. “Same as always. Coming home was, um, a dream. They’re not dead, and I’m still… there. What happens in the dream is, um, different, but… that’s always what it’s about. This time I was being whipped again. They liked whipping me.”

Isaac took another drink, nodding as he let the flavor rest on his tongue, then swallowed. “I’ve been whipped, too. Does your back still hurt when you wake up?”

“Every fucking day,” Danny said dryly, and the both of them laughed together. “I mean  _ every  _ day. My hands, too, but my back’s the, um, the worst.” He shrugged, finishing his second drink and setting the glass a little too firmly down on the table, both of them wincing at the loud  _ thunk.  _ “Whoops. I’m glad you guys asked us for help.”

“You… are?” Isaac blinked, not entirely sure he hadn’t just drunk enough to start hearing things. “Why?”

Danny smiled but looked away at the same second, and Isaac  _ knew  _ that expression, and felt vaguely alarmed and sort of enthralled by it all at once. “It’s just… nice to meet other people who, um, who  _ know _ . I mean. Other than Nate. But we talked about it, and he’s okay with it, he said…”

“You talked to Nate? About what?” Isaac’s voice was lower than he meant it to be, a little shaky. His face had never stopped being red, and it  _ had  _ to be the whiskey.

Danny looked at him, briefly, and then away. “You.”

“You talked to him… about…  _ me?”  _ Isaac’s voice caught, and he drank the rest of his whiskey way too fast, coughing as it went down the wrong way, leaning forward wondering how ridiculous it was to make it through everything he’d survived and then choke to death on goddamn whiskey. “Shit. Sorry, I just-” 

He coughed again, harder this time, bent nearly in half with the effort.

“Are you, um, okay?” Danny patted him on the back, firmly, and with his eyes closed - still coughing - Isaac wondered if Danny had done that for anyone but Nate since he’d come back here from whatever it was he’d lived through. “Hey, I can, let me go get some water-”

“N-No, I’m fine.” Isaac cleared his throat, putting one hand up, taking a few deep breaths. “I’m fine, thanks, I’m okay. I’m-” He coughed once more, and finally sat back, only to find Danny leaning in closer than he had been before. 

Either he was  _ really  _ drunk, or it just didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. He looked up to meet Danny’s eyes, only a few inches away from his. “I’m okay,” He said, again, more softly. Nearly a whisper.

“I think you’re safe,” Danny said, quietly, without pulling back. “So I want to try something. Are you safe?”

“I don’t-... I don’t know what that means.” 

Danny shook his head, and that bit of hair fell over his eyes again. “I mean, I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“Hurt  _ you…  _ One of us has about three dozen armed guards outside, Danny, and it’s not  _ me.”  _ He reached up and pushed the bit of hair back out of the way again, this time tucking it behind Danny’s ear. Danny went still - but this time, Isaac got that he wasn’t going still because he wanted it to  _ stop _ . “Did you seriously talk to your  _ boyfriend  _ about-”

“Yes.” Danny cut him off with lips pressed to his, rough, scarred hands on either side of his face. His hands went up over Danny’s, not to pull them back, just laying over the pattern of scars, feeling the rough bumps under his palms. 

He could taste the whiskey they’d both been drinking, when he opened his mouth, when Danny pressed the kiss deeper. “Are you sure this isn’t going to, to fuck something up-”

“Me, maybe,” Danny whispered. “Or you. But not  _ us,  _ not me and Nate. Please, you can say no, but-”

“I don’t want to say no,” Isaac said, and groaned when Danny kissed the side of his neck, sliding his hands up into his hair, tangling his fingers around it. “I just-... haven’t, in a long time-”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do-... I don’t think I, um, I  _ can _ , anyway, we can just do this.”

“Oh, okay, just-... this is good, I think, this is good, to start.”

They were whispering, heads together, and Isaac wasn’t sure exactly how it happened but somehow he ended up on his back on the couch with Danny laying on top of him, their hands up under each other’s shirts.

The world was a sort of delightful drunken spin centered around the simple solid weight of Daniel Michaelson’s hips on his, the warmth of his ribs under Isaac’s hands, the odd rough coolness of Danny’s fingers sliding up his back as he arches into him, pressing over scars. 

His own hands moved up Danny’s back, under the fabric of his heavy knit sleeping shirt, feeling along the scars as they kissed, the house shifting, creaking around them in the middle-of-the-night stillness. “Got whipped right there, too,” Isaac murmured into Danny’s jaw, licking at the scar there, the little dip of evidence of something darker than Isaac was prepared to name.

“We both did,” Danny whispered, voice and breath heavy, moving his hands to feel over the knife-marks on Isaac’s stomach, curving over his hips through the fabric of his pants. He rocked their hips together, to Isaac’s low moan. Then Danny smiled and pushed himself back and away, sitting slowly up with his weight still on Isaac’s hips. “Want to see?”

“Not, uh, exactly, b-... but your shirt off… yeah.”

“I asked as a, uh, to see if you wanted… to see my shirt off… I’m bad at this. Hold on.” Danny smiled shyly, pulling his shirt off over his head, and Isaac pushed himself up on his elbows to look up at him. Jesus, it had been a while - they’d been so busy running and fighting and living on pure adrenaline, he hadn’t even thought about doing anything like this…

_ Are you about to sleep with a syndicate son? After what the syndicates have done to your entire fucking life? Seriously? _

Danny didn’t _ feel  _ like a syndicate heir, though. Talking to him felt more like talking to one of  _ them _ , one of the normal people the syndicates had crushed and brought to heel when they took over. Talking to Ryan felt like talking to a syndicate member, but… not Danny. 

Danny shifted back and off of him, moving to turn around while still kneeling on the couch, and in the dim light of the single lamp in the living room and the moonlight coming through the windows, Isaac stared at a back absolutely coated in scars exactly like his own. He moved around and up onto his knees, pulling his own shirt off in silence.

“I, I know they’re bad,” Danny whispered, shoulders hunching forward. “I’m sorry, I can put my shirt back on-”

“Don’t.” He was drunk, and this probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, but Isaac leaned forward and kissed Danny’s shoulder blade, hearing his breath hitch and smiling a little as he grazed his mouth over the scars, rough and silk-smooth at the same time. “I like, I like how you… look, I think.”

Danny laughed, a low soft sound, and turned around on the couch, grabbing at him again, and this time Isaac didn’t hesitate, the two of them kneeling together on the couch, wrapped in each other, and Isaac realized the vanilla-and-tobacco smell was Danny’s  _ cologne.  _

“Christ, you’re good at kissing,” Isaac said, sucking a spot red on Danny’s neck until he was shivering and moving his hips again, almost helplessly, breathing in little gasps that Isaac wanted to hear more of. 

“Y-you, um, you, too,” Danny murmured, sliding a hand over Isaac’s stomach, over the scars, and then slipping it underneath the waistband of his pants, fingers skimming lower and lower until Isaac dropped his forehead onto Danny’s shoulder and groaned, bucking into his hand.

“Jesus. Fuck. Yes, right  _ there, _ Danny, I-”

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” Isaac heard an all-too-familiar voice say. “What the  _ f-” _

_ THUNK. _

“Ow! Jesus  _ Christ _ that hurt!”

Danny and Isaac both jumped apart, turning to look over the back of the couch to where Gavin was sitting on his ass on the ground, rubbing at one side of his face, next to a doorframe.

“Gavin, what the  _ fuck?”  _ Isaac grabbed at his shirt, moving to pull it rapidly back on over his head, and saw Danny doing the same. He tried to ignore his disappointment - which was easy, since he was rapidly papering it over with anger. “Did you just walk into the fucking  _ doorway?” _

“I was surprised! I came down to get a glass of water, I didn’t expect to find you and  _ this asshole  _ fucking playing ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ at 2 in the morning!” Gavin pushed himself to his feet, glaring at Danny with real anger and something else, something even sharper, in his eyes. 

“It’s, um, it’s my house,” Danny said, trying for firm, but his voice shook just a little, and Isaac stood, walking around the couch to stand between them without even thinking about it. 

“Sure, it’s your house, but  _ he’s-” _ Gavin cut off.

“If you were about to say what I think you were about to say,” Isaac said, voice low and dangerous, “Then you need to get your ass upstairs right. the fuck. now.” 

“How would  _ you  _ know what I was going to say,” Gavin muttered, a pouting whine to his voice that stabbed into Isaac’s brain like a hundred icepicks. “I mean, with  _ him?  _ What, you going to thank him for letting us stay here flat on your back? I kind of get the other one, but this one? All he’s done is cook and clean like a fucking maid and he just follows the other guy around like a-... like a, a fucking…”

“Like a  _ what,  _ Gavin?” Isaac asked, his voice low and soft.

Danny had gone silent, but in the moment, Isaac didn’t notice.

“Like a fucking  _ puppy  _ or something!” Gavin half-shouted. “That’s what I was trying to say! He’s like a  _ puppy!” _

There was a strangled sound, and Isaac turned to see a look in Danny’s eyes that he’d seen before… in Vera. Wide, and distant, and  _ terrified. _

_ I am going to fucking murder Gavin Stormbeck one day, and right now I could happily bludgeon him to death with anything in this room. _

“Gavin, go upstairs right now,” Isaac said quickly. “Right. Now. Get back in your room and don’t come out until everyone else is up.”

“What? Why?” Gavin blinked, looking at Danny directly for the first time. He swallowed hard, face going pale. “Oh, shit. I fucked him up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you dumbass. You did,” Isaac said, and it took real effort to keep his tone even. All the warmth from the whiskey had drained out of him, leaving him feeling coldly sober and furious - at the look on Daniel Michaelson’s face, at the interruption and the way his body was still lit at every nerve ending, at just fucking  _ everything.  _ “Get upstairs. Now. I’ll handle this, and maybe we don’t get our asses thrown to the fucking bounty hunters chasing us.”

Gavin muttered something that could have been the world’s lamest attempt at an apology and all but fled back up the stairs.

Isaac turned back to look at Daniel Michaelson and took a deep breath. “Okay, what do I do now?”

Danny looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened of something only he could see. “I’m sorry,” He said, voice shaking. “I’ll… I’ll be good, for y-you.”

Isaac felt dread like cold water run down his spine. “Hey, it’s okay,” He said, putting his hands up, palms out, then dropping them when Danny flinched back and put his own hands over his head protectively.

“I’ll be good,” Danny said, closing his eyes, steeling himself as if waiting for a blow. “I’ll, I’ll try h-harder, I’ll be good, I  _ want to be good  _ for y-you, Abraham…”

Isaac ran through everything he could think of to do, and finally he just stood there, feeling helpless. The only thing he could think of… “Shit. Okay. Stay here, uh, Danny. Just stay here, I’ll go get Nate, okay?”

He did not look forward to explaining the last few minutes of his life to Danny Michaelson’s boyfriend.

_ If they weren’t going to fuck us over before, there’s a distinct possibility they’ll do so now.  _

He went for the rooms at the back of the first floor, and felt more than a little embarrassed that at least part of him was upset that he probably wasn’t going to get to do any of that with Danny Michaelson again. 


	3. Room Assignments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan shows the family their rooms

“So,” Sam said brightly, apparently unaware of the undercurrents of tension moving through the room, “you live here?”

Danny ducked his head, fiddling with the cookies for a moment. “Um. Yes. Me and Nate. Since I, um, came home."

“And Nate’s your boyfriend?” Sam asked, their mouth half full of their third cookie.

Danny fingered the ring on his left hand. “Yeah. My boyfriend.” He smiled faintly.

Vera noticed his hands moving. They were scarred, like seemingly every other part of him, raised lines that followed the traceries of veins. "Oh. And you… you stay out of the way of the… syndicates?” She chewed her lip.

Danny chuckled a little under his breath. “I’ve always found that word so… sinister. _Syndicates,”_ he said slowly, deepening his voice until the effect was nothing short of dramatic.

Gavin scoffed. “Right. Who even came up with that, anyway?”

Danny flinched a little at the sound of his voice. “Right.” He paused for a moment, and his hand went up to rub at the line of scars on his face. Isaac cast his eyes down, and Danny looked at him, before carefully lowering his hand. “Oh. Um. Do you want to see your rooms? Or we could… um… wait…” He ducked his head. “For Ryan and Nate to get back. We could do that. But, but that's… up to you."

Gray smiled gently. “That sounds fine. We can stay here until they get back, if you like.” They stepped towards the table and looked around the room. “It’s a beautiful kitchen.”

Danny grinned. “Thank you. It’s my, my favorite room. Except for the living room, maybe. There’s a fireplace that we turn on when it’s chilly, and the couch is really, um, comfortable.”

“That sounds nice,” Vera said with a smile. She was starting to put the pieces together of what his captivity had looked like for him. Her chest felt a little heavy at the thought. “Maybe we can hang out there after dinner.”

“Okay.” Danny looked around at the others. “Would any of you like a cookie? They’re um, fresh and I’ve got some more in the oven…” They nodded in assent. As they moved in to take some cookies he sidestepped out of the way. Putting himself between them and the door. Vera watched the way he moved, ensuring no one was close enough to accidentally brush against or touch him. 

Finn came away with three clutched in their hands and one dangling from their mouth. “It’s been forever since we had… well, anything this good,” they said as they took a bite.

The kitchen was quiet for a moment save for the sound of chewing. A timer dinged and Danny moved to pull out the last sheet. A fresh waft of delicious cookie smell moved through the air.

Danny’s ears perked up before anyone else’s at the sound of the door opening. His smile grew wide again. The sound of voices moved closer to the kitchen until Nate and Ryan both walked in, looking a little strained in their postures.

“Everything’s good!” Ryan said cheerfully. “All set.”

“Thank you again,” Gray said. “We’re extremely grateful.”

Gavin cast his eyes at the floor as Gray said it. Ryan’s gaze moved to him again and stayed fixed there for a moment. Then he lifted his chin and looked to the others. “How about a tour?” He held his arm towards the door of the kitchen.

Sam stepped forward with a grin and followed him out. The others came behind, a little more warily. Nate and Danny brought up the rear.

“If Sam isn’t in love with this guy by the end of the weekend I’ll be fucking shocked,” Vera murmured to Tori.

Tori licked her lips. “If we all aren’t, I’ll be at least a little disappointed.”

Vera’s lips quirked up in a smile. “…really?” She blew out an amused breath. “I mean, if we’re all –”

Tori cleared her throat when she saw Ryan look back at her. Both women blushed as he grinned at them.

“So my brother will be on the first floor,” Ryan said cheerfully. Vera glanced back at Nate just in time to see him sigh heavily and roll his eyes. Ryan guided them all to a grand spiral staircase that took them up a floor. He gestured to the room right next to the stairs. “This is for Isaac and Sam, I wasn’t sure if… you…” He tilted his head at them, watching their reactions.

Sam blinked for a moment, their eyes torn, seemingly for the first time, from Ryan’s face to look at Isaac. “Oh. We’re not… I mean…”

“I don’t mind bunking with them,” Isaac said evenly with a shrug.

“Mm hm.” Ryan’s lips quirked up in a smile as his eyes returned to Sam. “Great. That's _exactly_ what I was hoping to hear.” He kept walking down the hall. “Finn and Ellis here…” He motioned to the bedroom just across the way from the first. “Bathroom here… Vera and Tori, you’re here…” He reached the end of the hall. “This one is for Gray,” he motioned to the left. “And this one’s mine.” His hand rested on the doorframe as he turned back to the others and flashed a brilliant smile. “But anyone’s welcome to join, if they wish.” Nate again rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, muttering something under his breath. 

“Where’s my room?” Gavin asked warily.

“It’s upstairs. Follow me.” He turned and led the group back to the stairs.

“Is your b- brother going to, to s- sleep with every sing, single one of our g- guests?” Nate whispered to Danny.

“I think he’ll try,” Danny whispered back.

They all made their way up the stairs to the third floor.

“Up here we’ve got the workout room, the office if you’ve got business to do, and some of the books that didn’t fit downstairs.” Ryan motioned to a room lined on every wall with bookshelves. Ellis lingered at the door of that one. “If you like a book, let us know, and unless it's Nate's, feel free to take it with you. We'll just get another copy. Oh, and this is your room, Gavin.” He motioned to a small bedroom near the back.

“Oh,” Gavin said, sounding disappointed. “It’s… um…” Isaac elbowed him in the ribs again. “Um…”

Gray sighed and turned to Ryan. “Thank you. Very much. We’re all very grateful that you’ve put us up in such comfort. It’s much more than we could ask for.”

“If you keep elbowing me like that you’re going to break a rib,” Gavin hissed at Isaac.

“You keep being a little bitchboy and I’ll break your _neck_ ,” Vera whispered.

Ryan clapped his hands together. “Well! I’ll let you get settled. Then if you like we could all hang out until dinner. Although if you’d like some privacy and time to rest, that would also be fine.” He winked at Sam. “Whatever _you_ need, I’m at your disposal.” He turned and walked back down the stairs. 

"I'm, I'm going to start on dinner," Danny said, flashing an uncertain smile before he and Nate moved to follow his brother. "If you, um, want to help, you can? But I can handle it. And, obviously if you want more cookies. Or something to, to drink… but I need to start cooking."

"Already?" Isaac asked, looking out a window near the stairs and then back. "It can't even be three yet."

"Tonight's meal takes a while to make," Danny said softly, looking nervous, as though he expected Isaac to be angry at him for speaking. "I, um. I feel better in the kitchen…" He hesitated, as if there was more he wanted to say, and then all but fled down the stairs.

Nate fixed Isaac with a long, thoughtful stare, and then followed Danny, the team left alone to get settled in their rooms.


	4. Ryan's Morning Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's in a foul mood after catching Isaac with Danny last night. When he runs into Ryan while getting some coffee, the day only gets worse.

Gavin was in a pissy mood.

His blood boiled when he thought of Isaac with that boy, that _Michaelson,_ lips moving, tongues pushing deep. That fucker’s… _hand_ … down Isaac’s pants like Isaac was a cheap prom date. _I’ve been on the run with him for months,_ he thought bitterly. _Months. And not even 12 hours here he’s tangled up with that fucking scarred-up prick with a syndicate name. How can Isaac not care about that? How can Isaac see past that with him, but with me…_ He shook his head to clear that thought.

Isaac had told him to stay upstairs until everyone was up, but he didn’t care anymore. He’d felt the fear of god when he’d seen the blazing look in Isaac’s eyes, seen Isaac stand in front of him and that _boy._ Now, the terror had rankled into bitter resentment. He thought he’d never stop seeing the look of Isaac kneeling on the couch, moaning at whatever Michaelson had been doing with his –

_Stop._

No, he didn’t care about what Isaac had said. What was Isaac gonna do, kill him? He’d proven over and over again that he wouldn’t. Maybe it was some misplaced sense of righteousness. Maybe it was because Sam asked him not to.

Maybe it was because he felt –

_STOP._

He stumbled to the kitchen and flipped cabinet doors open until he found the mugs. He reached for the pot of freshly brewed coffee on the counter. _Huh. Maybe the machine is automatic. I didn’t see anyone else –_

“Hey, Gavin.”

Gavin whirled to see Ryan, the true-blood Michaelson, sitting sleepily at the kitchen table. His heart plummeted to the floor. _Fuck. If he knows, if he knows what I… fucking_ said _… I’m dead. I’m a dead man. He’s gonna fucking –_

“Sleep well?”

Gavin relaxed at the sardonic but good-natured tone in Ryan’s voice. _He doesn’t know._ Gavin rolled his eyes. “Sure. Yeah, it was great. Love my room.”

Ryan tilted his head at Gavin and surveyed him evenly. “Everyone else didn’t seem to find fault in theirs at all. I imagine they’re more grateful to be alive than anything else.”

Gavin swallowed at the threat he thought he could sense dancing beneath the words. “Um…” His gaze fell to the floor. “I am. That’s what I said. I love my room.”

Ryan slowly traced the rim of his coffee cup with one finger as he stared at Gavin. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Gavin squirmed under his gaze.

“You’re used to this kind of environment, aren’t you?”

 _Fuck. This isn’t about the small room, or about Daniel Fucking Michaelson kissing Isaac. If he finds out I’m a Stormbeck, I’m dead. I’m really, really dead._ He swallowed. “Um…”

Ryan’s eyes moved slowly over his face. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since you got here. You don’t belong with the others. Even though…” His tongue moved slowly over his upper lip. “…you want to. You want to belong with –”

“Is there a point to this exercise?” Gavin cut in. His cheeks were flaming red.

Ryan chuckled. “I understand people. I see how they work. What they need. Who they are. And you, Gavin, aren’t like the others. You’re out of your element with them in a big way. What is it? You from out east? North? You from another region altogether?” His eyes narrowed. “You syndicate?”

Gavin did his best not to flee the room. He swallowed the terror that rose in his throat and lifted his chin. “You ask a lot of fucking questions, Michaelson,” he said. “You ever think I might not want to think about where I’m from? You think maybe it’s not relevant?”

Ryan stood slowly from the table. He stood a small step towards Gavin, then another. Not in the way a predator approaches prey, but more in the way someone approaches a picture they’d like to see better.

Gavin’s blood chilled. “What do you even know, anyway?” he snapped. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me. You don’t know who I… who I _want_ to belong with… What would you know about –”

Gavin wasn’t sure how it had happened, but suddenly he felt his back press up against a cabinet. Ryan’s mesmerizing eyes were boring into his, like Ryan could read his secrets written there.

Ryan was smiling at him with an intensity that made his skin crawl. It was such an unfamiliar feeling: like someone else had the upper hand. And he liked it. The sensation made him shudder.

“I know a thing or two,” Ryan said softly, his finger trailing up Gavin’s chest. Gavin’s mouth fell open at the sudden press of Ryan against him and him against the cabinet. He felt rooted to the spot, pinned down by Ryan’s gaze.

“I know you think you know people. You think you know what makes them tick. You think you know how to take them apart, make them into something else.” Ryan dipped his head and let his lips hover over Gavin’s throat. Gavin felt faint. “You think you’re in control.” Gavin’s eyes rolled back at the soft press of Ryan’s tongue against his neck.

“I…”

“And here’s the thing, _Gavin,”_ Ryan murmured into his ear, raising goosebumps all up and down his arm. “You don’t know people at all. You might see how they work, sure, but I…” Ryan’s fingers moved up Gavin’s chest to his neck. His fingers wrapped lightly around Gavin’s throat and Gavin felt like he would melt from the flood of pleasure that opened up in his chest. “… _I_ see what people _want.”_ Ryan used his thumb to tip Gavin’s head to the side. He dragged his teeth down Gavin’s neck. Gavin whined softly. _“I_ see what puts people together. And something that I think you know already…” Ryan’s mouth latched onto the spot where Gavin’s pulse beat and began to _suck._ Gavin couldn’t help the gasp that sent his head thumping back against the cabinets. “…is this.” Ryan’s tongue lathed over the spot that was already blooming red. _“He_ doesn’t want what you offer. He doesn’t want to know how he can be broken. He wants to know how he can be _healed.”_ Ryan nuzzled into Gavin’s neck. “Just something I want you to consider.”

Gavin’s eyes closed and to his embarrassment, two tears coursed down his cheek. He panted at the dual feelings of Ryan’s lips at his neck, and the stabbing pain Ryan’s words had caused. He was helpless against the cabinet, held in place only by the gentle pressure of Ryan’s body against his.

“Just something to keep in mind.” Gavin shivered at the feeling of Ryan’s teeth grazing his ear. Then the weight against him was lifted. Ryan walked calmly back to the table and resumed drinking his coffee like nothing had happened. Gavin slid slowly to the floor. His heart was beating so hard he could hear it in his ears. As soon as he could get his feet under him, he fled to his bedroom on the third floor.

Ryan Michaelson kept sipping his coffee.


	5. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac is avoiding Danny after the mess with Gavin - Nate comes to speak with him and offer to help make things right. Includes explicit consensual sex! Just an FYI, this one is definitely NSFW.

“I want to t-talk to y-you.” Nate stood in the doorway to the bedroom Sam and Isaac were sharing, his arms crossed. The gun sat in its holster, resting just over his left hip, and he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of him. He watched Isaac with those analytical, focused green eyes that had been so unnerving when they first arrived.

Isaac had been studiously pretending he _ wasn’t _ avoiding Danny and basically everyone else he’d ever met in his entire life, feigning a stomach bug. It helped that Ellis was also having some kind of trouble eating, although he hoped they weren’t  _ too  _ sick. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a book open in front of him. 

Sam was out - Ryan had taken them on a walk through the woods behind the house and Isaac figured, from the look on Sam’s face when Ryan invited them, that he probably wouldn’t be seeing Sam for a few hours.

Isaac felt… good, seeing that big grin on Sam’s face, the way they looked up at Ryan and tilted their head, seemed to relax in his presence. This place  _ felt good.  _ He’d doubted Gray’s instincts but their connections with the Michaelson group had apparently paid off, because Isaac had never stayed anywhere, since he’d started running, as seemingly comfortably  _ safe  _ as this.

Safe enough that when a Syndicate son offered to take Sam on a walk in the woods, Isaac had only told Sam to have a good time. 

He’d already laid out a change on clothing for them, just to give himself something to do, just to keep up his fiction that he was in this room because he wanted to be… rather than admit that he was hiding in here because he was so embarrassed he could have screamed over Gavin interrupting them, setting Danny off, and having to go beg Nate for help in the middle of the fucking night.

Nate had been… efficient. He’d woken up in a fraction of a second when Isaac knocked on his door, come out in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants. Isaac had pretended not to see the scars that littered Nate’s chest and back, and Nate hadn’t exactly needed to explain them. He’d been held with Danny, too - and whatever had happened to him hadn’t been the same, but it couldn’t have been much easier. 

Nate had told Isaac to stay close, and gone to Danny, leaning over him with a sudden wash of tenderness in the hard line of his jaw. He’d spoken to Danny in a low soft voice, a constant soothing monotone of words Isaac couldn’t quite hear. He’d put a hand up to either side of Danny’s face, stared right into the empty, frightened blue eyes and started to rub little circles with his thumbs into the scars that cut into either side of Danny’s jaw.

Isaac had stared, feeling terribly out of place and like some kind of awful voyeur, as Danny let Nate slowly pull him back out from inside his head. There was a level of love, and trust, in the way they looked at each other - in the way Danny leaned slowly into Nate’s touch - that made Isaac  _ hurt,  _ sharp edges of jealousy that sliced through the underside of his skin. It wasn’t that he was jealous of Danny… or of Nate… he was jealous that they had  _ each other _ .

Nate knew every single fucked-up thing that had been done to Daniel Michaelson over the course of four years. Gray wouldn’t even  _ tell them,  _ although Vera had seemed to look at Danny and just intuit some kind of instinctive knowledge she wasn’t sharing, either.

Nate had been there to see all of it, and he still looked at Danny with the adoration of a man face-to-face with a saint. And Danny looked back at him the same way.

_ I’m never going to have that,  _ Isaac had thought.  _ No one will know me that well, on the run. I’ll never feel safe enough to trust somebody, and no one else will ever have been there with me in the darkness. _

Except-

He cut that thought off, and Nate had sent him back to bed, asking for some privacy with Danny in the same low, gentle voice he’d spoken to the redhead with. Isaac had gone feeling like he had his tail between his legs, laid next to the little Sam burrito in silence, and stared at the ceiling until dawn.

Then he’d made his excuses about the stomach bug, and he’d figured he could just hide in here until the weekend was over. That seemed like a good plan, a safe bet.

Until Nate Vandrum stood in the doorway, watching him with a cool focus and perception that told Isaac that Nate knew very well he wasn’t sick at all. 

“Isaac?” Nate’s voice shifted, maybe went a little lower. “Is n-now a bad time?”

“It’s your house,” Isaac said, then winced at the way his voice came out petulant and childish. “I’m sorry. I just mean… this is your home, you can… it’s not a bad time.”

“What are you r-reading?” Nate tilted his head, dropping his eyes to the book. It had been on one of the shelves on the other side of he and Sam’s bedroom. This house was  _ full  _ of books, every single room had at least one shelf that groaned under the weight or had more books stacked on top because they wouldn’t fit on the actual shelf any longer. And every single one, so far as he could tell, included in a mix of perfectly neat and awkward scrawling penmanship the pencilled name  _ Nathaniel John Vandrum. _

“Uh…” Isaac’s voice trailed off, and finally he let out a huffed laugh, more a breath of air than anything else, and ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue. I think I’ve been reading the same paragraph all day.”

It was an admission, and in response something about Nate’s expression seemed, just slightly, to soften. “I’ve d-d-done that before. Are we g-g-going to see you, today? D-Danny would… would l-like to.”

Isaac blinked, surprised. “He would? After… after what happened yesterday-”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Nate said firmly. “He gets like that s-s-sometimes. The… the things that s-set him off are sort of random if y, you don’t know what happened, how they…” Nate swallowed, and his jaw set again in the hard line that said there was darkness in Nate, too. “... how they  _ treated him.” _

“Yeah, I just-” There were about a thousand things he could say.

_ It’s my fault because Gavin fucking Stormbeck won’t get the fuck out of my life. It’s my fault because I should have heard him coming downstairs. It’s my fault because I got drunk and kissed a guy who wanted me, because no one has wanted me in so long. It’s my fault because Gavin fucking Stormbeck got fucking… was he  _ jealous?  _ Does he have some kind of crush on Danny, too? _

Isaac caught the  _ too,  _ the admission even if only in his own mind that what he felt for Danny had pretty rapidly turned into exactly that - he had a  _ crush  _ on a Syndicate son. He felt blood rush to his face, and when he looked up, he realized Nate had  _ clearly  _ noticed. 

“I just-... I’m sorry. About all of that.”

Nate just shrugged, smiling slightly at him, and for the first time Isaac was looking at him closely enough to notice that one side of his mouth seemed to widen a little more than the other - there was a scar over the corner on one side he hadn’t seen before. “Be s-sorry to  _ him,  _ Isaac. Not m-m-me. He’s been h-h-hiding in our room all d-day.”

Isaac blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Y-Yes. He wouldn’t eat un, until I brought his l-lunch in.”

“So…” Isaac swallowed. “Let me… let me get this straight. Are you saying that we’ve both spent the  _ entire fucking day in our rooms  _ hiding from each other?”

It was so ridiculous, and stupid, and ridculously stupidly  _ normal.  _ He could have laughed, or cried, because it felt like being a kid again - those first few crushes before everything had fallen apart, before the life he’d wanted to live had turned into ruins. 

Nate laughed - a rare sound, and Isaac liked the deep rumble of it more than he would have been willing to admit. “Yes.”

Isaac dropped his head again, into his hands, and held back laughter only by sheer willpower. Then, finally, he took a deep breath. “Nate? Can I… can I ask you something?”

“S-sure.”

Isaac swallowed, trying to decide where he would even start. “He said you, uh, talked about… me. About… I guess about him… and I?” There was the blood rushing to his face again, but when he looked up Nate’s expression hadn’t changed from a slight, affectionate amusement.

“We d-did. About t-twenty minutes after y-you were shown to your rooms.”

“Why?” Isaac cleared his throat when it came out a little strangled, eyes dropping to the floor, feeling his face go red again. “Why, uh, me and not…” He waved his hand around, not even sure what he wanted to say.

“Why n-not any of th, the others?”

Isaac nodded, slightly miserably.

Nate laughed again. “B-Because he thought y-you were cute, Isaac.”

“He _ what?” _

_ He thought I was… someone thought I was- _

“Danny’s brother r-r-reads people…” Nate’s voice trailed off, considering, interrupting the elated, disbelieving cycle of Isaac’s thoughts. It was a feeling somewhere between excitement and panic. “Danny does, too. Not th-th same w-w-way, but… he knew as s-soon as he saw you. That you would… un, understand. He’s… sc-scared, and shy, but he’s not scared of y-y-you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Isaac ran a hand back through his hair. Nate was blocking his way out of the room, and it should have felt like he was trapped, but… he didn’t mind it so much. He shifted around on the bed, pushing the book to the side, sitting so his legs dangled over the side and his feet brushed the floor. “He said that. He mentioned that he thought I was safe. But then… shit, then he got-… whatever happened to him-”

Nate snorted. “That w-w-wasn’t your f-fault. If either of y-you would actually listen to the things p-people tell you… You’ve been av, avoiding him. He’s avoiding y-you. He’s… embarrassed. Worried about wh-what you saw. I want y-you to go talk to him, make it b-better. He still l-likes you. He’s w-w-worried you don’t like him. That you th-think… less of him, now that you kn-know. What they called him.”

_ Puppy. _

Gavin hadn’t meant it to set him off, he hadn’t  _ known.  _ Isaac had done his best to explain that to Nate, burying his own internal rage at Gavin underneath his worry for Danny and certainty that they’d get thrown out for this. It hadn’t happened, but… 

Isaac swallowed, hard. “I… I don’t. Think less. But, I just-… I don’t-… I figured he wouldn’t want to see me, at this point-”

“Well he does.” Nate’s smile widened, fractionally. His eyes were on Isaac’s face, resting with palpable weight. Suddenly Isaac had absolutely no idea what to do with his hands. He went to run one back through his hair again and got… caught, there. It felt stuck, almost. “I do, too.”

“I, um. What?” His voice caught, cracked, and Isaac hadn’t known he could turn any redder. 

“You’re sweet,” Nate said softly. “Come on. Come t-t-talk to Danny. We’ll make you a drink.”

Isaac stared with flat disbelief at what he was fairly sure was a hint of flirtation on Nate Vandrum’s face. “I’m sorry, I just-... you want me to… drink with you  _ both?” _

He’d had  _ fantasies like this.  _ I mean, not about  _ Daniel Michaelson  _ and his bodyguard-partner, he’d only known them for… but the basic  _ concept  _ skirted suddenly so closely to the sort of wild fantasies he’d had with the carefree certainty that it would never actually happen that he couldn’t really seem to believe that was what he was looking at now.

An offer to drink and sit together could be platonic. An offer to do so in the bedroom of a man you’d been ready to take to bed the night before could still just be platonic. But… something about the look on Nate’s face told him that this time, it really, really wasn’t.

“Yes,” Nate said steadily. “You can say n-no, Isaac. There is no pressure on y-y-you. But we’d like to know you better.” He twitched that wry, one-sided smile again.  _ “Both  _ of us.”

Isaac’s mind was shouting  _ fuck yes  _ and  _ this isn’t possible  _ and when he opened his mouth, what came out was a hoarse, “Fuck possible.”

“I’m sorry?” One of Nate Vandrum’s eyebrows raised, slowly, in confusion.

“Uh. Um. Just. Just, yes, I’ll… I’ll go talk to him.” Isaac swallowed again -  _ now or never, just to confirm, just to make sure I’m not seeing things -  _ and added, “I’ll talk to  _ both _ of you.”

Nate’s smile widened, and Isaac could see that somewhere underneath the odd, bored hostility he wore over his face and posture like a mask was someone far gentler. “Perfect. I’ll go t-t-tell him. Give me twenty m-minutes or so and then come to our room.”

Isaac nodded, wordlessly, and was left sitting at the side of the bed, trying to figure out if he had just agreed to what he was… was pretty sure Nate Vandrum had been offering. 

So that was how he found himself knocking on the door to Daniel Michaelson’s bedroom, only to be greeted by Danny himself, who opened the door with a shy, nervous smile that Isaac was sure he echoed. “Nate, um, Nate made me answer,” Danny said, his voice low.

Isaac heard Nate snort somewhere further in the room, and he just shrugged. His face was red and his hands felt like bricks, like big blocks he might hurt someone with just trying to touch them. “Yeah. He and I, uh, we talked. Look, Danny-”

“I’m sorry,” Danny and Isaac said, all at once, at the exact same time. 

Then they both grinned at each other, and Isaac felt the tension in his shoulders relax. “What are  _ you  _ sorry about?”

“Just, um, that we got… that you had to see that. Me. Like that. I’m sorry that we didn’t… get to.” Danny licked nervously at his lips, and Isaac swallowed against the sudden rush of a memory of exactly what those lips had felt like on his. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Isaac said softly. “That Gavin is the world’s biggest dumbass, that I didn’t, didn’t know what to do to help-”

“You couldn’t know. It’s okay.” Danny leaned over, in a sudden impulse, and kissed Isaac’s cheek. Isaac felt a hint of unease, worry that he might look and find Nate’s expression darkening with jealousy, but when he looked around Danny, Nate Vandrum was sitting in the same loose pajama pants from last night and smiling at the two of them, drink in hand. “Hey. Just, um, you want to come in? I, I made you a drink, if you want…”

“I… yeah.” Isaac breathed the word more than said it, and when Danny stepped back he stepped in, feeling like he was walking into something he couldn’t stop, a freight train barrelling downhill with no brakes, and… he kind of liked the feeling.

Danny’s smile was bright, and he closed the door behind them, ducking over to a side table in the massive bedroom. Isaac realized it was a  _ bar -  _ stocked with more kinds of alcohol than Isaac even knew existed in the world, a series of mixers, and there was some kind of fucking  _ ice machine  _ set into what he’d taken for a basic dresser drawer. Danny picked up a glass and handed it to him, and Isaac felt fucking  _ daring  _ when he made sure their fingers brushed.

His fingertips lit up, electricity in every nerve, and Danny smiled back in a way that said he’d felt the same thing. 

“What is it?” He asked. “Whiskey again?”

“Um, no. When Nate said you… you would come see us, I just-... I made…” Danny’s face was red, eyes sparkling, and Isaac wondered if he’d already been drinking or if he looked like that because of  _ him.  _ “It’s a Sazerac with bourbon and absinthe. I know that, that sounds weird, but, um-”

“I’ll try it,” Isaac said hurriedly, putting the rim of the glass to his lips, watching Danny’s eyes drop there, then make their way back to meet his gaze. The drink was cold, a complex mix of bitter and sweet, the bourbon a smooth blaze of vanilla and smoke down his throat. He drank a little more, and Danny smiled and turned a little redder.

It  _ was _ for him, then.

When Danny went back over to the bed, sipping the last few drops of his own drink and then discarding the glass on a long table that stood at the footboard of the bed, Isaac followed him, almost helplessly. He hadn’t done anything like this before, and it had been so long since he’d done anything at all. 

Nate just shifted over to make room. Isaac stopped at the side of the bed, feeling like he should… should ask permission or something, but who asks permission to get on a  _ bed- _

Danny shifted over, kneeling on the bed, and grabbed Isaac by the shirt, pulling him forward and he nearly fell on his knees, laughing in surprise and holding his glass up to keep the drink from spilling. “H-hey, wait-”

“I don’t want to,” Danny said softly, and leaned in to kiss him. His mouth was cold and he’d been drinking the same cocktail he’d made for Isaac.

With a sense of Nate’s eyes on them, Isaac let Danny pull him onto the bed, Danny simply rolling his spine until he laid flat on his back with his legs hanging off, Isaac on top of him, Danny’s fingers still tangled in his shirt. He had to catch himself with his free hand, his other hand blindly moving out. Nate smoothly took the drink out of it, took a sip himself, and then set it down on a side table.

“I feel like I should ask you to buy me dinner,” Isaac said, breathlessly, pulling back to realize he was lying on top of Danny, their hips lightly pressed together, his hands on either side of Danny’s shoulders to hold himself up. 

“I mean.” Danny shot him a sunny smile, crinkling the scar over his nose, and Isaac caught his breath at the sight. “We  _ are  _ feeding, housing, and protecting you for… however long you stay here, you know.”

Isaac laughed, leaned down, and kissed him again. This time he didn’t come back up for air, but instead shifted to his elbows, felt Danny’s mouth open for him, the cold tongue meet his and begin to warm, the taste of bourbon and bitters mixed between them. Then he slid his mouth to the side, grazed lips along his cheek to his jaw, down to his neck. The rough edges of scarring there - the unmistakable marks of a collar - felt rough and smooth against his mouth, both at once. Danny shifted under him, his head tilting back, back arching up. Isaac bit into the skin there, just a little - the slightest press of teeth and tongue. 

“Oh,” Danny said softly, as though this was some new discovery, and Isaac felt his hips move again, more insistently, to push into Isaac’s, the warm pleasure that came from the pressure there. 

He’d forgotten about Nate, for just a second, until he felt a hand slide through his hair and over the back of his neck. He pulled back from Danny’s neck, breathing audibly, and looked up to see the green eyes settled on him. Nate was closer, now. “Is this oh-okay?” Nate asked, softly. “If I’m also-”

“Yes,” Isaac said hoarsely, without letting him even begin to finish the question. 

“You can say n-n-no,” Nate said softly, seriously. “You can al, always say n-no in this house. You owe us nothing. You c-can say no.”

“I know,” Isaac said, and felt Danny’s hands running down his sides to slide up under his shirt, pulling at the hem as he and Nate looked at each other, and Isaac felt, in that moment, that he was with two people who genuinely  _ saw him.  _ “And thank you. But I’m not saying  _ no,  _ N-Nate, I’m saying  _ yes.” _

Nate exhaled, a sound of mingled relief and surprise. “Good. You can s-say no at any t-time and it stops.”

“We have rules,” Danny said quietly from below him. “To help. You can say no and it stops. No matter when, no matter what. I don’t have to-... _you_ don’t have to explain. Okay?”

Isaac looked back to Danny, thought about the immense and awful darkness inherent in what he was saying, and nodded. “Thank you,” He said again. “But I want this. I, I just… both of you. But thank you for that.”

They both smiled at him, and Isaac felt the core of him nearly melt - at the attention, maybe, or the affection there. When Nate took him by one arm he let himself be pulled away from Danny, briefly, back up onto his knees on the bed.

Nate pulled Isaac’s shirt off over his head while Danny’s rough fingers fumbled at the waistband of his pants. He shifted around to help Danny shimmy them down over his hips and get them off of him entirely. Isaac felt his breathing speed up, his heart not quite pounding, a throbbing heat beginning between his legs that became a kind of wildfire through his nerves when his shirt was off, too, and Danny kissed him again as Nate’s lips trailed over the back of his neck and found their way to the whip-scars that marked him over shoulder blades and spine.

Danny’s hands were on either side of his face while Nate’s slid over his ribs, around to the front of him. He kissed along Isaac’s bare shoulder as his left hand -  _ the good hand _ , Isaac fuzzily thought, with consciousness being rapidly buried underneath the avalanche of  _ want -  _ slipped over Isaac’s hip, around to the front of him, and Isaac moaned into Danny’s mouth as Nate’s warm hand found the growing hardness between his legs, curved around his cock, and began to  _ move. _

“Sh-shit,” Isaac breathed out, Danny nuzzling into his neck and he tipped his head back for it only to feel himself fall back against Nate’s shoulder. There was warmth in front of and behind him, mouths moving over neck and shoulders, hands finding scars and sliding over them without disgust or disappointment, lingering over the lines Gavin had carved in him one by one and treating them like something precious. “I, I need to be touching  _ you,  _ you can’t both just b-be-... wait-”

Both of them hesitated, immediately, paused what they were doing. Isaac hadn’t exactly slept with a ton of people, but he’d never had someone in bed with him react so fucking  _ quickly  _ to any hint of hesitation or uncertainty.

_ You can say no. You don’t have to explain why. _

Isaac laughed, breathlessly. “No, I don’t mean  _ wait  _ wait, I just-... what can I do? For you, for you both? What can I do?”

Nate shifted closer, his chest to Isaac’s back, and he felt an immensely recognizable pressure against his lower back. At the same time Danny’s mouth grazed back up his neck, found his ear, and bit gently down on his earlobe. Caught between them, Isaac could barely breathe, and he was pretty sure he probably never needed to breathe again. 

“Just b-be here with us,” Nate murmured against his left ear.

Danny was at his right. “In about ten minutes I’m going to want you to, um, to-... to fuck me,” He said, and Isaac made a noise somewhere between a moan and the noise you make when you swallow a drink the wrong way at the words.

“But, ah, but he’s, he’s your boyfriend-”

“It’s f-fine,” Nate said softly. “If it’s fine with y-you. You won’t h-hurt him.”

“You trust me a lot for someone you barely know,” Isaac whispered.

“You’re like me,” Danny said, and kissed at his neck again, slowly down over his collarbone, and Nate’s hand began to pump Isaac’s cock with a deliberate, expert pressure in just the right spots, at just the right speed. Isaac moaned as Danny’s mouth trailed over scars and skin, the line down the center of his stomach, and he stared down with wide eyes as the redhead dropped onto his hands and knees and kissed at Isaac’s hip, teeth nipping gently at the flat plane just along the inside of his hipbone, and Nate’s hand  _ kept moving. _

“Oh, fuck,” Isaac said, nearly a whisper.

“In a minute,” Nate breathed into his ear, and Isaac would not have been surprised to discover he had died, at some point, and this was the  _ good  _ heaven.

Before long Nate and Danny had shed their clothes, too. Isaac had stopped feeling like he must be dead or dreaming, but he still couldn’t quite understand how things had gotten  _ here. _

Danny was back on his back on the bed, with Isaac on top of him between his legs, holding onto his hips to keep them up at an angle, kissing Nate with something like ferocity where he knelt just above Danny’s head. Isaac’s hips moved, rubbing he and Danny together, and Danny’s hips kept trying to jerk up, chasing greater friction, more pressure. Nate’s tongue was in his mouth, and Isaac kept moaning into their kisses, the occasional half-shattered wonder as to whether this room was soundproofed enough or if the entire team was going to know what had happened in here by the time he came out.

He was rapidly discovering that he did not care.

“H-hold on,” Nate said breathlessly, pulling back and away, and Isaac made a low sound of disappointment. Nate chuckled and shook his head. “Hold  _ on.  _ I need to g-g-get something for D-Danny.”

He rummaged around in a side table, and Isaac felt himself harden even more, if that were possible, as he realized what Nate was getting. Danny must have had a similar reaction, because he grabbed up at Isaac, the rough pads of his fingers, the scarred backs of his hands just something else to kiss, and pulled Isaac down until they were flush together. Danny wrapped long legs around his waist and jerked his hips up once, twice, rubbing them together and Isaac groaned, burying his head in Danny’s neck, kissing at collar-scars and the line of his jaw, too, the little divot in his skin.

Two people who knew darkness like his, and understood him instead of worrying over him. Two men, in this room, who  _ saw him  _ instead of feeling sorry for him. 

Nate reappeared, pressing a small plastic bottle and a condom into Isaac’s hand. “He won’t need too much prepwork,” Nate said softly, and Isaac was felt blood rush straight to his cock as it occurred to him that meant that Danny had  _ prepared for this.  _ “I w-w-want you to s-suck me. Yes?”

_ You can say no. _

“God, yes,” Isaac said, and Nate laughed again, ducking in to kiss his cheek, and Isaac turned his head so that Nate caught his mouth instead.

He rolled on the condom, fumbling only a little with something he hadn’t done in a good long time. Then he took the lube to slick his cock up, rubbing at it while staring right into Danny’s hazy, lust-filled eyes, watching himself be  _ watched  _ by the both of them, Nate’s green locked just as much on him where he had settled back, his own hand moving over himself.

Isaac had never realized just being  _ looked at  _ while he touched himself could be so fucking  _ amazing. _

Finally he added more lube to his fingers and settled himself between Danny’s legs. The redhead spread them further apart, and Isaac grinned at him as he pushed one of Danny’s thighs up nearly to his chest. One finger slid in easily, evidence of what Nate had said, and once again Isaac felt a physical  _ pleasure,  _ thinking that Danny had gotten himself  _ ready  _ for this when Isaac had told Nate he would come see them in their room.

He couldn’t have known that Isaac would want to, but he had trusted that he would.

Two fingers, and then three, and Isaac hadn’t done this more than a few times, but he found it surprisingly easy, to finger Daniel Michaelson while his boyfriend watched the two of them and touched himself, and Isaac kept looking at that cock and thinking,  _ I’m going to have my mouth on that. _

He should have been embarrassed when his mouth watered a little at the thought, but he was too far gone to feel that way, now. And finally, his searching fingers found what he was looking for, pressed right into the spot deep inside of Danny, and the redhead let out a cry of pleasure and arched his back nearly off the bed, making Isaac and Nate both laugh. 

“Pl-please,” Danny said softly, and there was a strange scared fog that slid over his eyes, for just a second - and Isaac saw Nate tense for a moment - before his smile was back, the fog was gone, and sparkling blue eyes were locked on him again. “Now, Isaac.”

Isaac nodded, and he lined himself up, using his hand to get his cock right at Danny’s entrance, and for a second - just a second - he hesitated. “Double-checking,” He said softly. 

Danny’s smile widened. “Thank you,” He said softly. “But, um.  _ Yes.” _

Isaac pressed himself in. Danny exhaled slowly, relaxing himself around Isaac’s cock, and as he pushed in the sense of a tight heat grew and grew. Isaac took his time, taking Danny's cock in his hand to slowly slide up and down and give him pleasure to help ease the moment, palming gently over his balls. He kept watching Danny’s eyes, trying to see if that odd frightened look would come back.

It didn’t, and eventually Isaac had buried himself fully in Danny, flush against him with Danny's cock hard against his stomach, and he dropped down onto his elbows again. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, this feels so fucking  _ good.” _

“Yes,” Danny moaned, and then tightened and relaxed around him. Isaac groaned at the rush of pleasure he could barely  _ stand  _ at the feeling. “God, fuck, just-... yes, um, yes, keep… start moving, please, please, just-”

Isaac pulled himself back, just a little, slid a couple of inches back out of Danny… and then thrust in again, and they moaned in unison this time, Danny’s hips moving back to meet him, chasing friction. Isaac licked his lips and looked up to see Nate watching the two of them together, a smile on his face.

A warm, soft, loving expression still drowning in  _ want,  _ Nate’s hand still busy on his own cock.

“C-Come here,” Isaac managed, somehow, even as Danny tightened and relaxed again. “Hey, stop it down there, I’m t-trying to suck your, uh, your boyfriend’s dick-”

Danny laughed, a low breathless sound, and Isaac couldn’t keep the stupid fucking grin off his face. He felt better - stronger, seen and nearly  _ whole,  _ more like a real  _ person -  _ than he’d felt since the day he’d decided to save Sam.

“I need to h-h-hear you say yes,” Nate said, moving closer to them on the bed, and Isaac nodded, slowly, his eyes on Nate’s and then dropping down between his legs, biting down on his lower lip.

“Yes.”

Nate moved up to him, and Isaac felt unreal all over again when he opened his mouth to lick at the tip, just to listen to Nate’s shuddering breath, the low deep rumble of a moan. It wasn’t until he’d taken in as much as he could, a salt-bitter-skin taste and weight against his tongue, that he thrust up against Danny again and felt the redhead jump and laugh in surprised pleasure. His legs wrapped around Isaac’s waist again.

“This is-... is so  _ good,” _ Danny groaned. Isaac made a moan of assent and Nate all but fell forward at the vibration along his length, his hands burying themselves in Isaac’s hair. 

He found a rhythm. Thrusting into Danny pushed Nate a little more into his mouth, pulling slightly out of Danny pulled him back a bit off Nate. Then he thrust in again. The legs around his waist tightened and tightened until they were nearly painful, heels digging into his back, and Danny’s hands were moving constantly over scar tissue and sensitive places. He kept tilting his head up to nip and suck at the sensitive spots he could get his mouth onto. Nate’s hands stayed in his hair, not quite pulling, a pressure on his scalp that lit nerve ending down his spine to the tips of his toes.

For a while that was all Isaac could think about, could know, could feel. The heat of Danny around him and against him, the weight of Nate inside his mouth, the warmth of the room around them and the smell of Danny’s vanilla and tobacco cologne a soft constant scent underneath everything else. 

The pleasure built and built, and his rhythm kept breaking as he lost himself in it, but neither man seemed to mind, both of them moving with him, and he had taken more of Nate into his mouth than he’d ever taken of anyone else, tongue pressing against the shaft with each thrust into Danny, echoing what he did to one man with his mouth around the other.

The sounds were no doubt obscene, but Isaac barely heard them - his focus was too narrowed, too focused on  _ sensation.  _ Sound would have to wait.

It built and built within him, each thrust stoking the coiling heat, pushing him closer and closer and closer even as he felt Danny tightening, too, going still and tense as Isaac thrust harder and harder into the spot inside of him that had Danny crying out in abandon.

He felt Danny tighten impossibly around him, and it wasn’t even the tightness or the heat - it was the sound of Danny’s  _ voice,  _ the knowledge that  _ he had made Daniel Michaelson cry out so loudly in pleasure and come on his cock,  _ that sent Isaac over the edge.

He came inside Danny, buried as deeply into him as he could go, feeling himself pulse and spill into the condom, into Daniel Michaelson, into a Syndicate son and former captive. Into someone maybe he could trust.

Nate’s grip on his hair went tight and he thrust deeply into Isaac’s mouth, riding Isaac’s moans from his orgasm to drive him to his own.

He had to swallow, reflexively, again and again as Nate’s come was salt and bitter in his mouth, down his throat, not gagging him but deep, so  _ deep. _

It felt like forever and a fraction of a second, like it would never end and like he never wanted it to.

Finally, Nate pulled free of him and sat back in a near collapse against the headboard, as Isaac dropped onto Danny, his arms suddenly too wobbly and weak to hold him up. “Christ,” Isaac groaned, nuzzling against Danny’s face, licking at his scars, kissing his cheeks and his forehead and back to his mouth. “ _ Fuck.” _

“Was… was that okay?” Danny’s voice was low, his hands moving up to gently stroke over Isaac’s shoulder blades, over the scars.

Danny touched his scars  _ constantly,  _ Isaac thought. And never once with distaste.

“Fuck, yes, it was okay,” Isaac said softly, hoarsely. “More than okay. That was fucking  _ amazing.” _

“Stay with us tonight,” Danny said softly. “We can do it again. Different way next time.”

“Do it again?” Isaac raised his head, to meet Danny’s hazy eyes, his smile, and match it. “You mean… what we just did… again…  _ tonight?” _

“Yeah, I mean that,” Danny said, pushing a bit of Isaac’s hair back. Just like he’d done to the redhead, before they’d started kissing the first time. And that moment - pushing Danny’s hair back, tucking it behind his ear - had somehow ended up like  _ this. _

“I just-...” 

_ What about Sam? _

It occurred to him that Sam was probably getting a very similar proposition from Ryan Michaelson right now - or had already. 

Isaac came to a decision.

“Yes. I say yes. To, to staying here… to again. I say yes to all of it. Just…” He looked up at Nate, and tried on a teasing smile. It felt rusty, like riding a bicycle when you haven’t seen one in thirty years and you’ve sort of forgotten how they worked in the first place. “You, um. You can say no.”

Nate laughed, and Danny laughed and nuzzled up into him.

“Thank you,” Nate said simply, grabbing Isaac’s drink off the side table and handing it to him. Isaac took a deep drink, the burn of the bourbon washing away the salty taste still left in his mouth. “But my answer is  _ also  _ y-y-yes.”

* * *

Isaac woke up the next morning, coming blearily back to consciousness, to find himself sandwiched between Daniel Michaelson and Nate Vandrum in Danny’s big bed. They were buried under layers of warm blankets with Danny’s chest to his back, mouth pressing lightly on the back of his neck… and Nate Vandrum lying on his other side, an arm flung over both he and Danny, already awake.

Nate was watching him - or the both of them, with a smile of lazy contentment.

Isaac opened his eyes long enough to meet Nate’s and realize that his back didn’t hurt. For the first time in a long time, his back… didn’t hurt.

Oh, other things did, stung just a little, in the best way.

But his  _ back  _ didn’t hurt.

Nate tightened the arm he had over the two of them, leaned in, and kissed Isaac. He opened his mouth for it, and they kissed with lazy affection and no real urgency, before Nate pulled away and stood up, getting out of bed to walk to the bathroom across the room.

Isaac looked after him for a second, but then Danny’s mouth was in the back of his hair, grazing its way back to his neck, and he pressed his hips, his hardness, against Isaac. He was still half-asleep, and rolled over to face Danny, pulling him in to kiss him, too.

By the time Nate came back from the bathroom, Isaac and Danny were lost in each other, a tangle of legs and mouths and hands on the bed, whispered comments and soft, whispering laughter.

Nate let them have this one alone, pulling on his pajama pants and quietly letting himself out to head for the kitchen and start brewing coffee. He had a smile still on his face as he wandered in, only to find Ryan already up, grinning like a Cheshire cat over the rim of his coffee mug.

The smile faded, and Nate visibly fought back a sigh. 

“You three have a good time?” Ryan asked, in a tone that might have been trying for innocence - but failed, and landed right in the middle of suggestive.

“Fuck off,” Nate said, good-naturedly as he pulled down a mug to pour a cup for himself, listening to the liquid filling the ceramic, thinking of the two men he’d left behind in bed. “You kn-know we did, you feel that sh-sh-shit.”

“I do,” Ryan said, still grinning. “This house was a  _ parade of good  _ last night for pretty much everybody but Gavin. Even Gray.”

Nate raised his eyebrows.

“They read a really good book,” Ryan said. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Vandrum. Jesus, I’m still buzzing. I love the way humans  _ feel  _ after. All your fucking emotions feel so  _ good.” _

“M-Michaelson, I swear to G-G-God-”

“Is that who you swore to last night?” 

“Fuck. Off.”

Ryan laughed, without any particular rancor or mockery. Then he hesitated, and some of the trickster look in his smile faded away. His honey-colored eyes caught and stayed on Nate, an odd earnestness in his expression. “Tell me something. Something I can’t feel without being closer than I ever want to be to my brother during something like that.”

Nate went still, with his back to Ryan, then he slowly turned around, sipping his coffee, leaning his back against the counter. “Ask.”

“Do you think…” Ryan slowly set his mug down, kept his hands wrapped around its warmth. “Was it good, for Danny? Will it… have helped?”

“When I l-left,” Nate said quietly, “Isaac was t-t-telling him he’s b-beautiful.”

Ryan nodded, slowly. “Okay. Good. But… but will it  _ help?  _ Will it… help him? With everything they put inside his head, about himself? Or… should I-”

“Michaelson,” Nate said heavily. “Just shut up and l-let Danny feel s-s-something good.”

Ryan was quiet - for a few seconds, maybe, which was about as long as he was  _ ever  _ quiet, in Nate’s experience. Then he said, in a hesitant tone Nate had only heard from him in the days after he had first rescued Danny from the Denners and the other assholes in their mercenary group, “I just want him to feel like his body belongs to  _ him  _ again. That’s all.”

Nate sighed. Some of the visible hostility he had whenever he was around Ryan faded, replaced by a weary compassion, by understanding. “If it h-h-helps you,” He said quietly, “I think they were g-g-good for  _ each other.  _ Isaac has been b-b-broken, too.”

Ryan frowned. “I know. Which leads us to the next question, Vandrum.”

“The next qu-... question?”

“If Isaac is broken, too...” Ryan’s hands tightened around his mug, and he raised his eyes to the ceiling, as though he could stare straight through to the smaller bedroom on the third floor.

“What?”

“... then who do you think broke him?”


	6. Fillis

Ellis dashed to the bathroom again.

Finn appeared behind them after a few moments, sleepily rubbing their eyes. Their hair was a mess. They gently rubbed Ellis’s back as they vomited into the toilet.

_“Fuck,”_ Ellis whispered when they were done, their face momentarily pressed to the porcelain. _“Fuck._ This can’t be happening.”

“Pretty sure it is,” came Finn’s bleary voice. “You’re late, and you haven’t eaten anything that everyone else hasn’t had, and you’ve been sick like this for a few days. And you smell different.” They mindlessly rubbed Ellis’s back.

“This can’t be happening in syndicate. fucking. territory,” Ellis snapped. “Fuck. This changes everything. What are we gonna do? What are we gonna say?” They groaned and leaned over the bowl again.

“We don’t have to say anything,” Finn soothed. “Nobody has to know. Until we leave, at least.”

Ellis’s eyes pricked with tears. “You’re taking this weirdly calmly.”

Finn’s face broke into a stupid-looking smile. “Cuz I’m sleepy. And happy. I’m gonna be a parent.” They caught a look at themselves in the mirror and smiled wider. “I’m gonna be a parent,” they whispered, bewildered.

“Wait. Back up.” Ellis looked up from the toilet, sudden tears streaming down their face. “What do you mean I _smell_ different?”

Finn shrugged. “I don’t know. You just…” They shrugged again. “…smell different. Not… _bad._ Just different.”

Ellis pulled the lever and flushed the toilet. They wobbled as the got to their feet and leaned over the sink to wash out their mouth. Finn steadied them as they straightened again.

“Can I have some Zofran?” Ellis mumbled. “I’m feeling a little better, but… for next time…”

Finn’s face fell. “Oh. You shouldn’t have Zofran in the first trimester. Birth defects and things. I’d have to give you a whole bunch for that to happen but usually people don’t like to risk it. I also don’t have any Zofran left. ‘Fran’, as the kids say.” They giggled a little, sleep slurring the words a bit. The smile immediately left their face when they saw Ellis glaring at them. “Um. Sorry. We’re out. But we could… you know…”

_“No,”_ Ellis hissed. “We’re _not_ telling the fucking _Michaelsons_ about this. About my…” Their eyes slid out of focus and a smile crept onto their face. “… _our_ baby. I don’t care if Gray trusts these people. I _don’t._ No fucking way.”

Finn looked nonplussed. “I thought they seemed nice. Daniel, Danny seems… really nice. And quiet. And Ryan…” The goofy grin appeared. “Ryan seems nice, too.”

Ellis rolled their eyes. “I swear to god, if every single one of us hasn’t slept with him before we leave I’d be a little surprised.”

Finn’s eyebrows pulled together. “Oh. But… not…”

Ellis laughed gently and kissed Finn’s nose. “No, babe. I’m with you only. And I love you.”

Finn’s grin was back. They rubbed the back of their neck. “At least let’s ask him for something to settle your stomach? That isn’t such a strange request, right?”

Ellis sighed. “Fine. I guess. Let’s go ask.”

They padded together across the hallway to Ryan’s room. Finn pulled the soft robe they’d been given tighter around their waist and knocked.

They could hear stirring behind the door and a mumbled “’m comin’.” The light turned on and lit the plush carpet at the bottom of the door. The door swung open to reveal Ryan Michaelson, half awake, hair askew, somehow looking like a model who had just finished a casual photoshoot where the whole point of the shoot is to look bored. Ryan smacked his lips once. “Mm. Yeah? Sorry. What?” He squinted a little in the light.

“Hey, I’m sorry to –”

Ryan flashed a smile, rubbing one eye with a fist. “You’re alright. Wahs goin’ on?”

“Um, Ellis wasn’t feeling well, I was wondering if you had some… um…”

Ryan looked more awake. His eyes moved over Ellis. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”

“Um…” Ellis bit their lip. “I threw up. I was wondering if you had something… something to…” They trailed off.

Ryan Michaelson was staring fixedly at Ellis’s belly. A slow smile crept over his face as his gaze moved up to meet Ellis’s eyes, then Finn’s. He lunged in and hugged them both. “Oh, this is amazing. Absolutely… oh my god. Of course. I’ve got something. Let me just…” He walked past them to a small closet right next to the bathroom and started rifling through the shelves, muttering to himself. He emerged with a bottle of anti-acid pills. He brushed past them into his room and tossed the bottle on his bed. Turning back to the door, he took them both by the wrist and pulled them into his room. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispered, his smile more brilliant than they’d ever seen it. He closed the door behind them and pushed them towards his bed. He hopped onto the bed and stared at them with his chin in his hands, sitting cross-legged over the covers. “Tell me everything.”

Finn went a brilliant shade of red. “Well… Ellis and I… um… had… se—”

_“Finn.”_ Ellis’s pale skin was flushed almost as dark as Finn’s.

Ryan laughed, his head thrown back in genuine happiness. “No, you don’t have to tell me about the sex. I mean…” He reached out and took Ellis’s hands in both of his. “How do you feel? Do you want anything? I can send my guys into town for anything you want if you’re having cravings.”

“Oh.” Ellis sat tentatively down on the edge of the bed. They slowly pulled their hands out of Ryan’s grasp and took the bottle. They swallowed two pills and folded their hands in their lap. “No, I’m okay. Thank you. I haven’t had any cravings. I don’t really tend to until the last trimester.”

“Oh!” Ryan’s eyes shone. “You’ve had more than one. That’s wonderful. That’s… um…” He shrunk down a little bit where he sat. Seeming to realize the answer to the question he hadn’t even asked yet.

“They died.” Ellis’s throat twisted into a sob with the last word.

Ryan’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.” He reached out a hand and rested it gently on Ellis’s shoulder. “Can I ask what happened?”

Finn’s hand appeared on their other shoulder and they met Ellis’s gaze. Reassuring them. _I’m here,_ the look said. _And you can tell him or not. I’m here._

Ellis turned back to Ryan, tears brimming in their eyes. “The Stormbecks. Um. My husband, too.”

A little sound escaped Ryan’s throat and for a moment – Ellis could _swear_ they had imagined it, but it seemed, for a moment – Ryan’s eyes flashed a deep amber. Almost like they weren’t reflecting the light, but _shining._ They blinked and it was gone.

Ryan’s hand tightened on their shoulder. “I’m so sorry. The Stormbecks are… um…” His eyes flicked to the ceiling. “…they’re monsters. In all but the literal sense.”

“Monsters don’t exist,” Ellis mumbled as they pulled their knees up to their chest. “Just bad people.”

The corner of Ryan’s mouth twitched up for a moment. “Hm.” He watched Ellis’s hands moving unconsciously to their belly. “I can’t imagine how you must feel. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment Ellis just cried, tears falling like rain down their cheeks. Finn pulled Ellis into their arms and held them tight. Ryan moved forward until he could lean his head on Ellis’s shoulder. His arm went around their back and held them gently for a moment. Ellis’s hand landed softly on Ryan’s hair.

They cried together, all three of them. Ellis felt the pain that was always there in their chest, always pulling down at them, momentarily rising up and out of them. Like it was cleansing. Passing through them without tearing pieces out with it. They felt the others breathe with them. They felt, for a moment, a little spark of hope in them.

After what felt like a very long time, Ellis straightened and wiped the tears from their face. Ryan reached for the tissues on his nightstand and offered Ellis the box. They took one and blew their nose.

Ryan moved away from Finn and Ellis and leaned back against the headboard. Finn gave Ellis an extra tight squeeze, then let them go.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Ellis whispered.

Ryan’s eyes went wide. “Oh. No. Of course. I won’t. That’s your business. For what it’s worth, though, you… probably shouldn’t tell my parents either.”

Ellis’s eyes narrowed. “…why?”

Ryan’s shoulders moved in a shrugging motion that looked just a little bit tense. “Always good to keep personal business to yourself around them. They’re. Hm.” He dipped his head. “Just very talkative.”

“O, okay.” Ellis bit their lip.

After a moment Ellis looked up at Ryan. He was staring at them, smiling. “Have you thought of a name?”

Ellis shot a glance at Finn. “Well, this is kinda, um… unexp—”

“Iris.” Finn was smiling softly at Ellis. “It’s Greek.”

Ellis’s nose wrinkled against the sudden burn of tears. “What –”

“It means ‘rainbow.’ Like… after everything, the clouds lift and the rain stops and there’s a rainbow.” Finn pressed a kiss against their temple. “Just like us.”

Ellis was openly weeping with a radiant smile on their face. They pressed a hand to their mouth. “That’s, um… that’s a good name…” They waved their hand as if to brush away the gazes of the others staring at them. “But what if it’s a boy?”

“It’s not,” Ryan murmured. He was looking again at Ellis’s belly. Their hand had returned there again without them thinking.

Ellis sniffled. “How do you know?”

Ryan blinked and looked up at Ellis again. He smiled. “I just have a feeling.”

Finn was crying now, too. They leaned in and pressed their forehead against Ellis’s. “I’m gonna be a parent,” they whispered. Ellis cupped their face in their hand and kissed them softly.

Ryan reached out and put a hand on Ellis’s knee. Ellis looked at him and rested their own hand on his. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispered. “Seriously, whatever you need. Anything at all. My mom complains all the time that when she was pregnant with me she craved fresh fruit and really bloody steaks. Which she couldn’t eat, of course, because she was pregnant.” He rolled his eyes. “We’ve got a market not even an hour away. I can have anything you can imagine here by morning.” He squeezed Ellis’s hand. “Whatever you want.” His eyes moved to Finn. “And you, too. Sympathetic stress eating is real. Or if…” He bit his lip. “If you want a pregnancy test, to be _really_ sure. I can get whatever you need.” He grinned at them both. “Whatever you need.”

Ellis smiled gently. “Thank you. If I think of anything I’ll tell you. I think, though…” As if on cue, they yawned. “I’d love to get back to bed. My stomach is feeling a lot better. Thank you for…” They held up the bottle of anti-acid pills.

“Take them with you. If we need more I’ll send out for more.” Ryan gave Ellis and Finn’s hands a final squeeze and climbed off his bed. He walked them both to the door and bid them a final goodnight.

Ellis wandered back to their room, their mind swirling with so many thoughts. _Iris. That’s a good name. Where will I give birth? Where can I get prenatal care? And vitamins? Once we have her, where can we go where she’ll be safe? Could we ever escape the Stormbecks forever? Would Ryan be willing to help us again?_ They paused and realized Finn had stopped behind them in the hall. They turned back and took both of Finn’s hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Did… did he just… _magically_ … know we were pregnant? Almost before we did?”

Ellis’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Finn shook themselves. “Nothing.” A smile returned to their face. “We’re gonna be parents.”

Ellis pressed a kiss to the back of Finn’s hand. “You’re gonna be the most kickass parent. You are.”

Finn blushed in the dim light of the hallway. Ellis led them back to their room and shut the door behind them.

They crawled into bed together, suddenly exhausted. Ellis curled up on their side and Finn cuddled up behind them until their bodies were spooned together. As Ellis dozed off, Finn’s hand found their belly. They fell asleep to the feeling of Finn’s chest against their back, and Finn’s warm hand pressed over their baby.


	7. A Walk in the Woods: Part 1

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

Sam jumped and looked up from the book they were reading at the kitchen table. Ryan Michaelson was leaning over the table looking at them with his lips pulled into a huge grin, his eyes sparkling.

Sam bit their lip and for just a moment, looked over their shoulder to see if Ryan was talking to someone else. There was no one there. They swallowed.

“Yes, you, Sam,” Ryan said with humor. “You don’t have to, I just wanted to know –”

“Yes.” The word came out much louder than Sam had meant for it to. “Thank you.”

Ryan laughed softly and held out his hand. The book slipped from Sam’s grasp as they stood and took the hand Ryan offered. Ryan guided them towards the back door that led them out into the woods.

As they passed the stairs, Sam looked up and saw Isaac going down. Isaac looked at Sam. He looked at Sam’s hand, laced through Ryan’s. He looked at Ryan. He smiled. “Where you going?”

Sam blushed a flaming red. “Um. Uh. For a… walk?” They licked their lips.

Isaac grinned. “Have fun.” Ryan gently pulled Sam towards the door.

Sam was staring at Ryan with their mouth open. _Oh my god. Oh my god. Ryan Michaelson wants to go for a walk with me? Maybe he just wants to talk about things? Maybe he wants to show me something cool._ They glanced down at his fingers laced through theirs. _No, I think he wants to…_ They swallowed hard.

Ryan led them out the door and out into the woods. He made a sign to one of the guards that were constantly patrolling outside, making sure nothing would happen to them. Keeping them safe. _Or maybe making us stay put._ Sam waved that thought away before they had even finished it.

The woods around the summer house were so thick that they couldn’t see the house after they’d walked no more than fifty feet. Ryan kept moving, though. The sun dappled on his skin, made his eyes shine an incredible amber color they hadn’t quite seen inside. He looked like a god, wandering through his domain. He looked beautiful.

He looked down at Sam and caught them staring. Sam blushed again and looked away.

Ryan stopped walking and stood in front of Sam. He took both of Sam’s hands in his. “Is everything okay?” His eyes moved over Sam’s face like he could see into their soul. Their knees buckled a little bit.

They licked their lips. “Um. Yes. Good. I just… was wondering…” Their heart fluttered as Ryan’s lips slid into a little smile. “Why, um… Why me? And not, um…” They shrugged. “Not Isaac? Or… or…” They looked at the ground. “Or Gavin?”

Ryan chuckled, a low, warm sound that made Sam’s skin feel a little too tight. “Why you?” He took another step closer. “Let me first say… Not Isaac, because he’s a little busy with other things right now. Not Gavin, because…” His nose wrinkled in… was that _contempt?_ Sam smiled. _He sees Gavin like he really is. A dick._ “But why _you?”_ Another small step closer. Their chest was touching Ryan’s now. Ryan was looking down at them with that bone-melting look, those eyes that looked like something was moving behind them, something warm and dark and inviting, something so good and exciting and _please dear god will Ryan just…_ His hand went to cup Sam’s cheek. Sam’s eyes went wide. They licked their lips. “Because you’re _gorgeous._ And kind. You’re so sweet. And I just…” Ryan dipped his head low, his forehead just barely touching Sam’s. Sam thought they might pass out. “I want you.”

Ryan pressed his lips gently against Sam’s.

Sam made a noise that embarrassed them. Halfway between a strangled sigh and a moan, sounding stupid and awkward and –

Ryan brought his other hand to their face and pulled their lips harder against his.

Sam melted in his hands.

Ryan backed Sam up against a tree. Sam rose up on their tip-toes – they’d never kissed someone so damned _tall,_ he was as tall as Isaac – and wrapped their arms around Ryan’s neck. Ryan’s hands moved down their face, over their shoulders. To their waist. Under the hem of their shirt. His fingertips pressed against their skin.

“We do whatever you want,” Ryan whispered against their lips. _“Whatever_ you want. If this is as far as you want to go, this is all we do. If you want –”

Sam’s hands went to Ryan’s leather jacket and started pulling it off his shoulders.

Ryan chuckled. “Okay. That works. If you want –”

“I want _you,”_ Sam rasped. “Um, please. If that’s –”

Ryan lifted Sam and pressed them against the tree. Sam’s legs wrapped around Ryan’s waist and their hands tangled in his hair. They opened their mouth to Ryan’s tongue and sighed as he pressed in, tasting them. Ryan moaned gently into Sam’s mouth. It drove them wild.

“I’m sorry, I want… I mean…”

Ryan brought his lips to Sam’s ear. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” Sam breathed.

Ryan made a low sound like a growl in his throat. His hands moved over Sam, tangling in their hair, gripping their thigh, resting gently on their throat. They sighed and kissed down Ryan’s neck.

Ryan moved his hips against Sam. Sam’s breath caught in a moan and their fingers tightened against Ryan’s back. Ryan rolled his hips again and Sam’s eyes rolled back.

“Do you, um…” Sam’s hand went to the back of Ryan’s neck. “Did you bring… um…”

Ryan smiled against Sam’s cheek. “I brought condoms. And lube.”

“Oh. Good.” Sam flushed red again. “God, I’m sorry, I just –”

“There’s no need to apologize. I know you don’t get much… _opportunity_ … when you’re on the road.”

“Yeah.” Sam swallowed. “So if it’s… um… _fast_ …”

“I could fuck you after, if you want. It’s alright.”

Every nerve in Sam’s body blazed alight. “Oh.” The sound was more like a groan. “Um. Yes. I… please…”

Ryan grinned and pulled Sam away from the tree. His hands left them for a moment and they whimpered in protest. “Just a moment, honey.” He grinned at them and eased his jacket all the way off his shoulders. He laid it over a patch of pine needles at the base of the tree. He held his hand out to Sam.

Sam was staring at the jacket, concerned. “Won’t it get ruined?”

Ryan laughed, low and soft. “No. Don’t worry about it.” He took Sam’s hand and guided them towards him. He sat down and laid himself back onto the jacket, pulling Sam on top of him. Sam straddled his legs and stared down at him. At his skin, dark and warm, at his eyes that shone as he looked up at them. At his smile.

Sam bent over and kissed him again. He opened his mouth to them at once. Sam rolled their hips against his and he gasped.

“Remember,” he panted. “We only go as far as –”

“I want to fuck you.” The sureness in Sam’s voice startled them a little. They swallowed. “Please.”

Ryan’s hands moved to the waistline of Sam’s sweater. He pulled it up over their back and started to guide it off their head.

Sam froze. _My scars._ Ryan felt the hesitation and stopped.

He eased their sweater back down over their back and put a hand to Sam’s face. “What’s wrong, honey?”

Sam’s face was downcast. “Um. I…” Their mouth twisted. _The jerk in the upstairs bedroom marked me up beyond repair. It’s okay if you don’t want me now._ “I have some… um… _scars._ I’m sorry, I should have said something…” They leaned back away from Ryan.

“Oh, honey. I love huma—” His mouth snapped shut. “I love your body just the way it is. You’re gorgeous.”

“Well…” Sam said miserably. “You can look, and… um… decide, I guess.”

“Hey.” Ryan’s voice was so gentle it made Sam look up at him. They melted a little at the sight of his eyes boring into theirs with genuine interest. “I want you. I know that already. But let’s go slow. Okay?” He searched Sam’s face for a confirmation. After a moment they nodded. “Okay.” He eased their sweater up over their head.

Sam shivered in the cool air of the woods, the sun making it down to the forest floor just enough so it wasn’t chilly. They looked down at their arms, at the shimmering evidence of Gavin’s torture. The lines of cuts. The mess of burns. They squeezed their eyes shut.

They felt a hand on their face and opened their eyes, surprised at the look of tenderness on Ryan’s face. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Sam stiffened. “Vera doesn’t like that word,” they said quickly. They looked around and shook themselves. “I’m sorry. She’s not here. I’m sorry. I just… habit, I guess…”

Ryan shook his head. “You’ve all been through so much. I’m so sorry. I won’t use that word, okay?” His lips pressed into a hard line. “The Stormbecks have done a number on your family.”

“You have no idea,” Sam muttered. _Oh no. They can’t know about Gavin. He’s an asshole, but he’s with us now._ Their eyes snapped up to Ryan’s. “I mean…”

Ryan was looking up at them pensively. “Hm.”

Sam leaned back on their heels. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to um…” They started to get up.

“Please.” Sam was brought back to their knees by the word. Ryan took Sam’s hand, still flat on his back. Vulnerable. “Please. If you don’t want this anymore, that’s okay. But I still want you. Please don’t leave because you think I don’t.”

Sam was still for a moment. “Oh.”

Ryan smiled. “Is this your first time since…”

_Since Gavin._ “Since all the stuff happened. Yeah.” Their lips quirked up into a smile. “But I want you, too.”

Without another word, Ryan pulled Sam back in for a kiss.

Sam moaned as Ryan bucked his hips up into theirs. Their hands fumbled at Ryan’s shirt and pulled it up over his head. Ryan pushed himself up onto his elbows for a moment to help Sam get it off. Sam’s hands moved over Ryan’s chest with appreciation. He was beautifully formed, muscled and strong, like a god that had wandered through the woods and somehow ended up under Sam. They smiled.

Ryan noticed and flexed. “What is it?”

Sam laughed. “You’re, um.” They leaned down and kissed along Ryan’s chest, biting gently as his nipple. Ryan groaned. “You’re pretty.” They blushed.

Ryan’s hands grew firm on Sam’s hips and pressed them down against himself as he bucked up into Sam. Sam could feel a growing hardness that made them trembly with excitement. “Do you want me?” Ryan asked. Teasing. His lips pulled into a devious grin.

Sam gasped as Ryan bucked into them again. “Oh. God. Um. _Yes.”_

“Are you sure?” Ryan’s tongue ran over his bottom lip as he looked up at Sam.

“Uh.” Sam swallowed, their own hardness starting to grow in their pants. They gasped as Ryan ground them down against his hips again. “Dammit, _yes.”_

They reached for their waistband and started to pull their pants down their hips. They were loathe to be separate from Ryan’s warmth for even a moment, but they stood and pulled their pants down around their ankles. They kicked their shoes off and dragged their pants off all the way.

Ryan was grinning as he did the same. He eased his jeans off, revealing a cock that made Sam stare in appreciation. _God, he’s like… perfect. Every inch of him is perfect._ He took off his shoes and laid his jeans down where his jacket ended. Jeans that probably cost more than Finn’s medical equipment. More than their car. And he laid them in the dirt.

Ryan reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a few condoms and a small bottle of lube. He looked up at Sam and laughed gently when he saw them staring. “What is it?” Sam could swear he was posing for them, lying on the ground like a statue in repose.

“Um. I guess. I just. Um.” They swallowed hard. “I want to have you but then I… I want you to take me. Please. God. I uh…” They trailed off, still raking Ryan’s body with their eyes.

Ryan grinned. He reached out for Sam’s hand and gently pulled them down on top of him again. Sam carefully knelt, their legs on either side of Ryan’s leg. They placed their hands gently on the planes of his stomach and ran their fingers across his torso. “Um. You’re, like… really pretty. I’m sorry. I just…”

Ryan’s hand tangled gently in Sam’s curls. “You are, too. You’re gorgeous. Please.” He pulled Sam down for a kiss.

Sam sucked gently on Ryan’s lower lip, their hand moving slowly lower. Lower. Until he felt Ryan’s stomach tighten at the feeling. They went slightly lower still and grasped Ryan’s cock in their hand.

Ryan moaned into Sam’s mouth and twitched slightly into their hand. Sam stroked him gently and shivered at the sounds Ryan was making.

“G-god. Sam. Yes, there… _fuck_ …”

Sam grinned wickedly. “I will.” Ryan’s smile made them feel brave. Wanted. It had been _such_ a long few months, being on the run, helping Vera and Isaac when they were in those dark places, trying to find a way to avoid Gavin for even a few hours. But right now, in the woods, with this man, this man who was as far as Sam knew a sex god incarnate and moaning under their hands and lips… This moment was perfect. In this moment, Sam was safe.

And _god_ did they want to fuck Ryan Michaelson.

They reached for the lube. “Can I…”

_“God,_ Sam, if you don’t soon I’m going to just… please…”

Sam blushed. They reached for the tiny bottle and slicked their fingers. _God, I haven’t done this in a while._ The tips of their fingers brushed down the back of Ryan’s thigh, lower, until Ryan was quivering, those amber eyes sliding shut for a moment…

They pressed a finger into him. Ryan Michaelson gasped and moaned, his hips stuttering up to press his cock against Sam’s stomach. Sam felt a rush of warmth through them. _I made Ryan Michaelson make that noise. I’m out here with him, alone, in the woods, and I’m making him make that noise._ He felt so tight. Sam eased back out, then in again. Gently. Careful not to hurt him.

Ryan’s eyes rolled back for a moment as he caught his breath. He opened his eyes again and gazed up at Sam with a look that made them wobbly inside. “Let me…” He reached out and grasped Sam’s cock.

They gasped and pulled back. “Oh my…” They scrambled to explain as Ryan’s eyebrows pulled together in worry. “I’m sorry. I… Uh… That’s so… _good_ …” They licked their lips. “I uh… if you do that I’m… um… not gonna last very long.”

Ryan smiled. “That’s okay. I want to –” His hand curled gently around Sam again.

Sam staggered onto their elbow. “Oh, god.”

“I’ll go slow.” Ryan stretched up and kissed gently along Sam’s neck. “I’ll go slow.”

“O-okay,” Sam panted, and focused on what their hand was going to Ryan Michaelson. They moaned as Ryan touched them, stroked them, kissing and sucking gently from their ear to their collarbone. They felt him intentionally relax around their finger. They pressed in gently, further.

Ryan bucked and gasped. “Jesus, Sam, are you trying to undo me?” He fell back to the ground with a laugh. “Christ…”

Sam grinned and tested with another finger. Ryan moaned softly as they eased it in, stretching, working slowly. Sam’s brow furrowed as Ryan’s hand moved slowly on their cock. They could feel something tightening in them already, a buzzing glow that was building already in their pelvis, focused on where Ryan was touching them. _Oh god, oh god._

“God, you’re exquisite,” Ryan murmured into their hair. “You’re beautiful, Sam. And…” He slipped into a sigh as Sam pressed their fingers deep inside him. “God, what you’re doing with your… _hand, fuck_ …”

Sam bit their lip and smiled. “Do you like that?”

Ryan laughed softly. _“Like_ it, my _god,_ Sam…” His head fell back against the jacket. “Yes. _God_ yes.”

Sam added another finger. Ryan moaned, the sound bordering on indecent if it hadn’t been so damned _beautiful._ Sam moved slowly, preparing him. Savoring the tiny gasps as they did.

Ryan’s hand released Sam’s cock and they whimpered. “Can I…” Ryan licked his lips. “Can I get you ready while you do this? If you want me to… I mean…”

_“Yes.”_ Sam almost moaned the word. _“Please.”_

Ryan smiled and reached for the lube. Once he had coated his fingers he reached behind Sam and slowly eased one finger into them.

Sam shuddered and collapsed against Ryan. Their cock was pressed between them and they mindlessly moved against Ryan’s hip. The pleasure spread through their pelvis, through their cock and their ass and everything in between. A sweat broke out over their skin.

_“God,_ Ryan. How are you so… _good_ … _fuck_ …”

“You can, if you want,” Ryan murmured as they nibbled Sam’s earlobe. “I think I’m ready. You can if you want.”

Sam’s cock twitched against Ryan’s hip as he said it. Anticipation trembled under their skin. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ryan added another finger. The wave of pleasure that swept through Sam took them by surprise and they cried out. “Fuck me. Please.”

Sam’s head dropped to Ryan’s shoulder. “Oh, _god.”_ They pressed their fingers as far in to Ryan as they could go and Ryan gasped. “Okay.”

Sam removed their fingers and maneuvered so they were kneeling between Ryan’s legs. They reached for one of the condoms and tore it open. They looked down at Ryan as they rolled it on. Ryan was gently stroking his own cock, a look of hunger drawing his face in tension as he looked up at Sam. Sam finished putting on the condom and slicked it with lube. They leaned over Ryan, nearly trembling with the piercing feeling of _want_ coursing through them. They guided Ryan’s legs a little further apart and pressed their lips gently against Ryan’s mouth. They positioned themselves at Ryan’s opening and pressed gently in.

They both moaned against each other’s lips. Ryan’s hands moved over Sam’s back, felt their muscles tensing at the base of their spine, moved back up to their hair and tugged gently. Sam groaned at the feeling, of the tingling in their scalp mixed with the _friction_ at their cock, at the wonderful warm tightness that was Ryan Michaelson’s body. They eased their hips back just a little. They pressed back in. Ryan sighed.

“Like I said,” he whispered as he craned his neck up for another kiss. “Beautiful. Fuck me, Sam. Please.”

Sam quivered as the words moved in a shiver down their spine. “O-okay,” they panted, sparks flashing across their vision for a moment. “Okay.” They rolled their hips back and in again until they were flush against Ryan. They squeezed their eyes shut against the jolt of pleasure that coursed through them again.

“O-oh god,” they panted.

“That’s right,” Ryan crooned. “Fuck me. God, Sam, you’re so… _fuck.”_ He pressed Sam’s hips harder into him. His finger, still slicked with lube, found Sam’s opening and eased inside again.

Sam’s hips bucked into Ryan and they cried out. “Oh god, oh _god,_ Ryan. That’s…”

Ryan’s hand moved and Sam shuddered. “Is it good?”

Sam whined and fell onto Ryan’s chest. Their skin shimmered with sweat. “This isn’t gonna take long…”

“That’s alright.” Ryan eased Sam out a few inches and into him again. “I want you. Now fuck me, before you drive me crazy.”

Sam’s head fell against Ryan’s shoulder. They moaned and surrendered to the feeling.

They rolled their hips into Ryan, pushing him up a little bit against his jacket at the height of each thrust. They pulled Ryan’s hips a little higher up against theirs and grinned when they felt Ryan’s body shudder as they pressed up against that spot inside him. They felt Ryan’s cock slide against their belly as they worked into him. They fell down onto their elbows again and pressed their tongue into his mouth.

Ryan fell open to him. His legs fell out to the side, his mouth fell open, his head fell back… Perfectly open. Vulnerable. Theirs, for a moment. They trembled.

They could feel Ryan responding, too. They could feel him tensing, shuddering on their cock. They could feel the build of Ryan’s pleasure. Felt his cock impossibly warm and pressed between them. Sam whined as their pleasure mounted. _God, I want to make him come first. He’s so beautiful, I want him to come on my cock and scream when he does…_ Their mouth watered at the thought.

They leaned up on one hand and gripped Ryan’s cock with the other. _I just want to make him feel good. God, he’s so warm, and I’m…_ They glanced down to where they were buried to the hilt inside him. Ryan saw them looking and smiled.

“God, you look so gorgeous when you’re taking me.”

Sam nearly came unraveled then. Their hand stroked Ryan’s cock, gently at first, then more urgently at the sounds Ryan was making. Ryan reached up with one hand and grasped Sam’s hair, arching them back just a little as they pumped his cock. _I know exactly how I want him to fuck me when it’s his turn._

Sam’s eyes burned with sweat as they rolled their hips into Ryan. His other hand was still busy inside Sam, prepping them. Driving them crazy.

Sam moaned as another wave of pleasure began to move over them, slow and warm. _Not yet._ They turned all their attention to hitting that spot deep inside Ryan and stroking that firm cock in their hand. They shivered to think of it inside them next.

Ryan’s breath stuttered in his chest and Sam felt him start to clench around them. Sam was nearly dizzy with the orgasm that was building in them as he raced to bring Ryan to the crest of his pleasure. Ryan bucked slightly into Sam’s hand, his mouth pulling wide and his eyes squeezing closed…

Ryan came with a low scream, his back arching up off the jacket. Sam felt him come on their hand as they reached the top of their climax, too. Sam moaned and buried themselves as deep into Ryan Michaelson as they could. They whimpered as Ryan’s ass milked their cock as he came down from his own orgasm. They shuddered together as their bodies reacted to each other, clenching and shivering with pleasure. Sam collapsed onto Ryan’s chest, their mouth pressed against his neck. They could taste the salt on Ryan’s skin.

Ryan sighed and reached into his jacket pocket for something else. He pulled out a handkerchief and passed it to Sam. They wiped their hand clean and cleaned the rest of the come from Ryan’s stomach. They dropped the handkerchief into the pine needles beside them. They pulled gently out of Ryan and smiled as he whimpered at the sudden emptiness. They pulled the condom off and put it with the handkerchief. Ryan reached for one more thing in his jacket pocket and deposited some of it in Sam’s hand. _Hand sanitizer. He really did think of everything._ They laid down and curled into Ryan’s side as Ryan rubbed his own hands clean. Their head rested on his chest.

They could hear Ryan’s heart bounding. Their ear buzzed with the vibration as Ryan said, “you are incredible, Sam. Truly.” His hand moved to their face and stroked along their cheek. “I’ll need a few minutes to be ready again, but…” He tipped their face up for a kiss. “What can I do for _you_ now?”


	8. A Walk in the Woods: Part 2

Sam shivered at the feeling of Ryan’s lips against theirs. Their mind was suddenly flooded with thoughts, all kinds of thoughts of Ryan’s lips, his hands, his _cock,_ running over them and inside them. Their lips trembled.

“Um,” they said softly. “I was thinking we could… um… get dressed…”

“Mm hm?” Ryan’s hands carded through Sam’s hair.

“Head back to the house, wash up a bit…”

“Yeah?” His teeth were at Sam’s earlobe. It made it _very_ difficult to concentrate.

“Head to your room, and maybe you could… throw me on the bed…”

“Uh uh?” Ryan’s fingers twisted at Sam’s nipple. They cried out softly.

“Will you _stop_ that, I’m trying to _think_ …”

Ryan grinned wickedly. “Do you _really_ want me to?”

Sam’s voice shook. “Um… n-no…”

“Hm. What else would you like me to do?”

“Um…” Sam gasped as Ryan sucked a spot on their neck. “Then I’d like you to… um… pin me down… and…”

Ryan’s fingers drifted around Sam’s throat. “Yes?”

Sam met Ryan’s eyes. “…and fuck me until I’m screaming.”

Ryan’s mouth slid into a wicked grin and for just a moment… It was a beautiful trick of the light, but for a moment his eyes flashed that beautiful amber color.

“Then,” he purred, “I think I have one more thing that’ll help us.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something that made Sam’s eyes go wide.

“Um. Y-yes.”

Ryan rolled over on top of Sam and reached down between their legs. Sam felt like they were falling into Ryan’s eyes as he slid the toy into them. A little tight, but not painful. They shuddered as they adjusted to it. _I’ll be ready as soon as we get back to his bedroom._ The thought made their mouth go dry.

“We better get our clothes on, shouldn’t we?” Ryan grinned down at them.

Sam had never gotten dressed so quickly in their life.

Ryan gathered the unused condoms and lube and tucked them back in his pockets. He collected the used condom and handkerchief and wrapped them up into a bundle. Then he took Sam’s hand and led them back to the house.

Sam could feel the toy moving inside them as they walked. Stretching them. Preparing them. Their breaths started to come heavier as they imagined Ryan Michaelson deep inside them, pinning them to the bed. They felt a twitch in their pants.

The walk back to the house couldn’t possibly have been longer than their walk into the woods, but that quarter mile or so was the longest distance Sam figured they’d ever walked before. When the house came back into view, they gasped with relief.

As they kicked off their shoes, Ryan stepped inside and deposited the soiled handkerchief and condom into the trash disposal. He wandered up the stairs with Sam as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if they were just friends going to hang out in their rooms. Sam didn’t see anyone on the way up. They figured they all were in their rooms, too, or out walking, or hiding with a book somewhere. The thought crossed their mind, and left just as quickly. _I want Ryan Michaelson inside me. God, I want that._ They were nearly vibrating with anticipation.

They stopped by the bathroom on the second floor and Sam went into wash their hands first. Almost all their awareness was on the place where the toy was pressing them open, preparing for Ryan. _Oh, god._ They dried their hands on a towel and trembled at the look Ryan gave them as he went in, next. His grin spread completely across his face. _He’s going to break me in half._

Ryan walked out of the bathroom, his hands still just a little wet. He carried a towel with him. He took Sam’s hand and led them to his bedroom. Ryan spread the towel over the bed and went back to close the door. He turned to look at Sam. Sam shivered at the look on his face.

Ryan’s hand shot out and grabbed Sam’s hair. He dragged them towards the bed and shoved them down. A tiny cry left Sam’s throat as they fell back onto the bed.

Ryan was already taking his jacket off, his eyes moving up and down Sam’s body. “If I hadn’t already seen you naked,” he murmured, “I’d be cutting those clothes right off your body.”

“No knives,” Sam whispered.

A flicker of softness passed over Ryan’s face. “Of course. Of course.” He rested a hand on Sam’s ankle. “Is this okay?”

Sam visibly relaxed their shoulders and nodded. “Yeah. Thank you. You can… you can throw me around, I _want_ you to, but… no… knives. No torture.”

Ryan took one more step closer until he was standing between Sam’s legs. “No torture,” he promised. His eyes moved over Sam’s face. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sam’s cheek. “Nothing like that.” He smiled as he felt Sam shiver at his voice. “I’ll make you beg, though.”

Sam’s hand made a fist in Ryan’s shirt. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Ryan growled low in his throat and he reached for the hem of Sam’s sweater. He yanked it up over their head and threw it into the corner of the room. He didn’t hesitate before reaching for their pants and yanking them down off their legs. They hit the floor next.

Sam lay completely naked on the bed in front of him. Their skin felt like it would catch fire as his eyes moved over them. Hungry. They smiled and let their legs spread open. Their cock was already hard again. “Are you gonna take me, or…?”

Ryan shoved them back down to the bed before they could finish the question. He nearly tore his shirt off and stripped his jeans off. They were still a little damp from the woods. He stroked his cock a few times as he gazed down at Sam. He grinned. “Take that toy out and I’ll show you.”

Sam’s heart jumped in their chest. They eased the toy out of them, moaning as it went. “Where should I…”

“Here.” Ryan went to his nightstand and pulled out a small bowl-shaped basin from the drawer. Sam dropped the toy into it and he placed it on his dresser. A jolt of anticipation shot down Sam’s spine as he turned back to look at them, his cock still in hand. They licked their lips and he descended on them.

He dragged them higher up onto the bed until they were almost at the headboard. His hands moved over them, pressing into their skin, skimming the scars on their arms. Taking in all of them. He reached for his nightstand again. Sam watched as his hand came back with a condom. They felt a flood of heat between their legs as Ryan rolled the condom on. His hand went again to the nightstand and he came back with lube that he slicked over his cock, maintaining eye contact with Sam as he did it. He glanced down at his cock. “Do you want this?”

Sam whimpered softly and licked their lips at the sight of Ryan’s cock standing erect between his legs. “Um…” Their voice broke. “Yes, _god_ yes…”

“Hm.” Ryan smirked. He grabbed their hips and flipped them onto their belly. They cried out in surprise. Ryan dragged their hips back and they spread their legs, nearly whining with desperate need. They pressed their hips back against him and whimpered when they felt Ryan press against their ass.

“Please,” they begged. “Oh god, _please_ …” They squeaked as they felt Ryan’s finger at their opening, pressing in. Testing. They were ready, they _knew_ they were. They were at the edge of sanity. _“Please!”_ It was nearly a wail. Their cock was stiff and weeping between their legs.

“You want me to fuck you?” Ryan purred. Sam nodded frantically, their face pressed against the bedspread. Ryan lined himself up and pressed into them.

Sam cried out from the feeling of fullness. They felt Ryan ease back, then a little further in. Ease back, further in. They whimpered desperately as he teased them. _“Please!”_ Ryan thrust himself in to the hilt.

Sam moaned against the bedspread and bit down on the fabric. They prayed it would muffle their voice enough. _No matter now thick these walls are, I don’t think it’ll matter._

Ryan began to fuck them, and hard. Sam’s moans drew out into a long, unending cry as Ryan thrust into them, gaining in speed as Sam’s hands fisted in the sheets. Ryan gripped Sam’s hips and slammed them back onto his cock. Between Sam’s whimpering moans they could hear the sound of skin slapping on skin, of the firm thrusts into them. Their eyes rolled back at the sound.

And they could feel the pleasure building. God, they could feel it deep inside them, deep where Ryan was thrusting against that place inside them that sparked, that _swelled_ as their pleasure grew. They whined and pressed their forehead against the bedspread.

“Oh, don’t muffle those cries, honey,” Ryan crooned. He twisted a hand in their hair and jerked their head up off the bed, arching their spine back until they were up on their hands and knees. “I want to hear you. Hear every gorgeous sound.” He jerked his hips into theirs for emphasis and Sam could hear a low, appreciative chuckle at the sound that came from their throat. “That’s right, honey. Let me hear you.” His fingers tightened on their hips and he rutted into them.

“Please,” whimpered Sam. They could barely form words. “Please…”

“What do you want, honey? Tell me. Come on.” Ryan fucked them harder and they cried out.

“Please, will you… will you touch me… stroke me, _please_ …”

A low hum rumbled through Ryan’s chest. “Yeah, baby. I can do that.”

Ryan’s hand drifted from Sam’s hip to their cock, and they _groaned._ Ryan didn’t need to hold them in place. Sam shoved their hips back against Ryan’s cock, desperate for him to get deeper, _deeper,_ as Ryan stroked them. Into Sam, pushing their hips forward into his hand. Out a little, and his hand stroked down their cock again. Over and over and over, Ryan giving them pleasure behind them and in front of them until they were completely lost.

_“Ahh,”_ they sighed. “Ryan, _god,_ this is… I’m gonna…”

“You come if you want, honey. Come for me.”

Ryan fucked into them so hard it sent them bouncing forward with each thrust, their voice breaking with the movement. _“Yes,”_ they cried, their neck strained up with Ryan’s hand in their hair. _“Oh!”_ They shuddered, felt the spot Ryan was hitting inside of them glow, felt the glow rush into their cock and through their body and all around them until they felt like they were going to fly apart. Their orgasm erupted through them and they _screamed._ They felt themselves trembling around Ryan’s cock as he thrust into them, hitting that spot over and over until they thought they would go crazy with the buzzing that shook through them, until Ryan came with a cry.

Sam collapsed to the bed as Ryan’s hand loosened on their curls. Their skin shimmered with sweat that stuck to the soft towel under them. They felt Ryan pull out of them and they whimpered for a moment at the sudden absence. He felt the towel under them, now wet with their orgasm, slide away until they were lying completely on the bedspread. Then he felt Ryan’s warm body, also slick with sweat, crawl onto the bed with them. They sighed as he drew them into his arms. They nestled against his chest.

“Hum,” Sam mumbled. “Tha-… um…” They felt nearly delirious. Their tongue was too big for their mouth. “Hah… I…”

Ryan chuckled and pressed a kiss into their hair. “That was good?”

_“Huh,”_ Sam grunted in agreement. “Um. I…” They shivered. “Hm. Hah… how…”

“What?” Ryan’s fingers moved slowly through Sam’s hair.

“Huh-how are y-you… suh…” They swallowed. “Suh-oh… um… _good_ …”

Ryan laughed. “Hm. You’re pretty spectacular yourself, honey. _God_ you feel good. Inside, and out.” They stroked Sam’s cheek.

Sam hummed contentedly and buried their face in Ryan’s neck. “I, um.” They pressed a kiss there. “That was. Um. Good. I… thank you.”

“Thank _you,_ Sam,” he murmured against their hair. “I’m so glad you’re here.”


	9. You Don't Have to Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Danny have a conversation. While Ryan is a delight and charming, he's still Syndicate - and Syndicate sons take what they want.

“Come on, jackass, don’t act all shy _now._ You and I both _know_ I can feel your stupid crush floating all around you like snow.” Ryan elbowed his brother in the ribs, and Danny pushed back lightly, rolling his eyes, red already flushing along his cheeks, nearly canceling out the scars there. “You like him, admit it.”

“Okay, fine, I do.” Danny shrugged, kicking awkwardly at a stick in their front yard. Forty yards away, Michaelson men (and more than a few women) roamed armed and ready for any threat, but so far none had materialized. “I do, I like him."

"There, was that so hard?" Ryan asked with a tone of exaggerated patience. Danny rolled his eyes and kicked at _him_ this time, only to have Ryan step lightly back and to the side.

"Fuck off. Anyway… Nate does, too - and that’s important.”

“Sure. You've had him in your room for like... five days now. That doesn't happen unless Vandrum likes him, too.” Ryan nodded, glancing over his shoulder back at the house. Nate had moved the battered, beat-up car the team had arrived in behind the house and to the side the day before. The team was due to leave tomorrow afternoon or evening, but Nate had said he had a feeling, something that kept sticking in his mind, and he'd feel better if the car was ready to take the secondary track.

There was a path, through the woods. Rarely used. Wide enough on the ground for a car and covered with the tree canopy over it, so it was harder to track someone from the air. It'd take them through the woods and out the back side of the summer estate grounds, onto a small unmapped road. A getaway road, just in case, that as far as Ryan knew, had never been used.

There had been no threat, nothing to fear - but when Nate Vandrum had a hunch, even Ryan just shrugged and let him do what he wanted.

Jackass.

"Are you gonna date him _together,_ then, or just you?" 

Danny's face went bright red, and he ducked his head low, letting his wavy hair hide it as best he could. Ryan had always liked making his big brother blush - redheads blushed so easily, and honestly, how could anyone expect him to resist? “I, uh. I don’t know. Probably mostly just, um, just me. But we’re not going to-... they’re going to leave like, um, tomorrow night, Ryan. And they can’t exactly just swan in and out of, um, of Mom’s territory.”

Patrick Michaelson was the nominal head of the Michaelson syndicate - but everyone knows that Corrine Michaelson was the one in charge.

“I guess that’s true.” Ryan leaned himself back against a low stone wall that cuts across the front lawn, and Danny stayed standing, rubbing idly at the scars cut so deeply into the backs of his hands. Ryan had spent nearly four years spending every resource, calling in every favor, desperately working to find his brother. 

When he found him, Danny was sitting in a mercenary’s truck, and Nate Vandrum was standing in front of a house on fire with seven people inside. Ryan had come with his own people planning to shoot the place until it fell down from all the _bullet holes_ but instead he had found himself shaking the hand of a man who had been held captive alongside Danny and offering him a job.

Ryan put one hand up to his mouth, flickering at his thumbnail with his finger in thought. The breeze was gentle and warm on a pretty day, and he knew their guests were no doubt largely outside in the back by now, enjoying the sunlight themselves. 

Out of earshot.

“You could have him stay, you know,” Ryan offered, gently. 

Next to him, Danny stiffened. “What?”

“Don’t be mad.” Ryan put both hands in the air in a don’t shoot gesture. “I know what you think I’m about to say. But… you know, it’s been a long time since you looked at anyone but Nate, right?”

Danny went quiet, his blue eyes traveling over the lush green grass, the trees that line the drive up to the summer house, the wide, cloudless blue sky over their heads. “Right.” His voice was soft, and a little shaky, but Ryan knew his brother well - worry but not panic, concern but not slipping away into the nightmares that follow him through the waking world as well as the sleeping. 

They might have been skirting a line, but he hadn’t crossed it. Not yet.

“We’re in charge, here,” Ryan said, firmly. “This is our territory. We did a nice thing, a _generous thing,_ offering them safe haven and a way through here without being picked up by bounty hunters or worse-”

“Being picked up by Mom,” Danny muttered, and the two of them snorted nearly in unison.

“Right. Exactly. Look, I like them all-”

“You like everybody, Ryan, that doesn’t mean shit.”

“Not everybody.” No, Ryan wasn’t prone to hatred, but he could feel it. He was the one bankrolling Vandrum’s occasional forays into being a bit of a bounty hunter himself. Nate saw another face he remembered, heard a name that rang in his mind from the fucking _parties_ where the Denners had passed his brother around like a cheap whore, and he came to Ryan for cash, a couple of armed men, and permission to kill. 

Ryan gave him whatever he wanted, every single time.

Every new corpse was one less motherfucker walking the earth that had raped, beaten, or tortured his brother. Every dead body was worth the cost.

He and Nate would keep Danny safe, protected, and make sure that he would have what he needed from here on out. What he _wanted._ And the moment Ryan had seen Danny lay eyes on the man, he had known that Danny wanted _Isaac._

“I’m just saying,” Ryan said quietly. “I’m saying that they’re not our friends, Dan. They’re on the run from the Stormbecks, and I like fucking over Colleen and her shit family as much as any other Michaelson, but… but we don’t owe them any of this. This is all out of generosity. Goodness.”

Danny gnawed on his lower lip, sitting on the stone wall now, crossing his arms in front of himself. “We don’t have to be cruel, Ryan. Just because every other syndicate is, that doesn’t mean-”

“Yeah, we do. You can’t run the world without at least a little cruelty, you know. We’re lucky to be born on this side of the equation. And we should take the advantages that fortune gives us. You like him.”

“I do.” Danny knew what he was going to say, Ryan could tell. The blush had faded and been replaced by pale uncertainty. Once upon a time, Danny had been angry as shit but he’d been a good syndicate kid, too. It was all still in there, but the Denners had wrecked it, dismantled a lot of the easy assumptions Danny had once held.

Ryan hadn’t been able to save him or protect him, when it mattered. But he could make sure Danny never wanted for a single thing for the rest of his life. 

“Then… he should stay here with us. With you and Nate.”

Danny shook his head, letting his hair hide his eyes, resting back with his hands on the stone wall. Ryan settled right next to him, their arms nearly brushing. He heard the sound of shouted laughter, voices he vaguely recognized. Finn and Ellis, maybe. 

A smile twitched. He liked _everyone._ Ryan was good at liking people, at reading them. He liked Gray’s natural leadership, their simple trust in their team and the trust they received in return. He liked Vera’s ferocity, the way he could see in her that she had been taken from prey to predator. He liked the way Tori saw Vera, the near-worship in her eyes. He liked Finn and Ellis and their devotion to one another. He _loved Sam,_ their sweetness and sparkling light, the way they seemed to dance across a line between too shy to speak and shockingly forthright. He even liked Isaac, his shy smiles at Danny and the sense of _safety_ Ryan felt from his brother when they were together. 

The only person he didn’t like was Gavin.

The very first morning, he’d seen Isaac flinch when Gavin moved too fast at breakfast, and Sam give him a weird look when he'd passed close behind them on his way to somewhere else. He’d witnessed the way everyone was hostile to Gavin - or if not hostile, not caring, the way they were with each other. Ryan was a smart man - he could put two and two together and find four, quickly enough.

On top of that, he had sensed in Gavin a distinct need to _break,_ to shatter things and watch the pieces on the floor. To destroy and rebuild in the image he desired. He felt like Syndicate, and that clinched Ryan's instinctive sense that he _was_ Syndicate.

He might have amused himself with the observation, if Danny’s want for Isaac hadn’t been a louder sense, under his skin.

He couldn’t fix what had happened to his big brother. He couldn’t take away nightmares or the way Danny hated dark rooms, sometimes broke down into tears when he heard people talking to their dogs. But he could… he could give Danny everything he wanted, without question.

“His team is his family, Ryan.”

“Sure, because he doesn’t have another one, yet.” Ryan shrugged, carelessly. “You and Nate could be that for him, too, you know. If he stayed with you.”

Danny looked sidelong at him, a hint of longing in his eyes. Ryan felt it come off of him like a scent. If he concentrated - if he breathed in the smell of Danny’s dreams - he could nearly hear the chain of desires and wants and hopes like the sound of wind rustling through leaves.

_he's like me understands me likes us both nate likes him I can trust him he won’t hurt me he doesn’t mind that we have to check in he wouldn’t mind if I had to stop he understands he’s like me he was held too I want to hold him more I don’t want him to leave I want him to stay_

“No, we couldn’t, not really. You’ve seen how he looks at Sam. I don’t think he’d ever leave them, or let them leave him behind.” Danny sounded a little miserable, and Ryan nodded, compassion in his eyes. “Plus… I mean, the others. They’re all his family. That’d be like, like asking me to leave you again. I never would.”

“We could give him a phone, and them. To call and talk.”

“That’s not the same and you know it.”

“You should at least try, Dan. If you want something… if you want something, take it. Have him stay.”

Danny swallowed, hard.

“I… I couldn’t ask him to do that.” Danny hunched into himself, staring down at his shoes. Nate had said once that Danny wasn’t allowed to wear shoes, for nearly four years. He never left the houses they held him in, cooked and cleaned and made drinks for everyone. Every single task accomplished with the understanding that sooner or later, he’d be down on his knees or his stomach or his back again.

Tied to the bed, on the floor, against the wall.

Nate had killed twenty people. He said there were more to go. The fury that lit in Ryan whenever he thought about what that meant was enough to light the world on fire, if he let it burn hot enough. He stopped his thoughts, now, even as Danny had begun to shift at the sudden warmth in the air around them.

One of the first things Ryan had done, after the rescue, was ensure his men brought Danny his favorite pair of shoes. His brother had cried for an hour after putting them on. He was wearing them now, and Ryan stared down at them until his eyes stopped flashing the bright yellow that came along with his mother’s blood in his veins, until the air cooled again.

“I want him to stay-”

“Then _have him stay.”_

“I can’t. I can’t possibly. He loves all of them, so much. After we, um, after we…” Danny flushed again. It covered over his scars and Ryan loved it, the sight of skin that, had just that much less evidence of the hell his brother had survived. “We talked a little about where they’ve been, while they were running. He… I just couldn’t, Ryan. It would be way too much to ask.”

“Dan…” Ryan sighed. Might as well just say it, knowing exactly how Danny would react. “We don’t have to _ask.”_

Danny’s breath hitched. “Ryan-”

“Hear me out. I… I know you struggle a little with this, but… listen to me. You like him. You want him here, you want him. So… keep him.”

“He’d… he’d never stay.”

Now, Ryan turned to look at his brother, nudging him with one arm until Danny looked back. Nerves and worry and _longing,_ deep inside.

_I couldn’t it would be wrong but I want to he was so good to me he’s so nice he hurts so much inside in the same ways I do he is scared the way I am scared and we are less scared together and Nate likes him too and I want him here but I can’t have him want but can’t have want but can’t have_

“You want him.” Ryan’s voice was gentle. “So don’t let him go.”

“Ryan.” Danny trembled, all over, his tall lanky body shaking like a tree branch in winter with the last leaf clinging and nearly ready to give up the ghost and join the others on the ground. “You, you c-can’t possibly mean-”

“Tell him he stays.” Ryan thought about the desires he’d read twisting through Isaac, his guilt and self-loathing and fear and wonder and hope, his loyalty to the team he called his family. “Tell him if he stays, we get them safely out. And if he doesn’t… we don’t.”

“Ryan-”

“Lock the door to his bedroom. Send the rest of them away and tell them if they won’t go, you’ll give them to Mom.” He frowned. “Or not. Actually, no, not that.” 

He liked Sam too much to inflict his mother on them. They were so sweet, and soft but then hard in all the right places. 

“Well, tell _him_ that’s what you’re doing. We’ll get the rest of them out, and make sure they don’t dare try to come back.”

“They’ve done that once already,” Danny said, sounding half-strangled. His eyes were wide and slightly foggy, now, and Ryan had been threading a needle before but he was definitely close to pushing Danny a little too far, now. “They’d come back for him, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t ever let them get close to him."

"That Sam, though, they're his best friend. You, you _like_ Sam, Ryan! They'd come back and you wouldn't hurt them."

Ryan thought of Sam, sweet smile, on their stomach on his bed. Of how it had felt to have Sam _inside_ him, to give them exactly what they wanted, to be the best lay they'd ever had.

"I do like them. But if they stood between you and Isaac, I would get them out of the way. Danny, you’re… you’re what matters to me.”

“They matter to him,” Danny whispered. “More than anything. More than I ever could.”

“Not forever. Danny, he’d learn, he’d figure it out after a while. You would be _everything_ to him, if he stayed here long enough. His whole fucking world. He likes you, too, you know-”

“But he’d stop, Ryan!” Danny cut him off and pushed away from the wall, turning to look down at him. “The second it stopped being a choice, that being around me wasn’t something he chose but something I inflicted on him, he’d stop liking me! He’d, he’d hate me, just like he hates-”

“Gavin Stormbeck.”

There was a silence, between them.

“You knew?” Danny whispered.

“I knew. I’ve known for _sure_ since… hm. Since just after Gavin walked in on the two of you and nearly gave himself a black eye from pure dumbassery. When did you figure it out?”

“Something he said, at lunch one day. It was…” Danny’s hand went up to the scar at his jaw, rubbing at it, nervously. “It was… there were people who paid… _them_. For time with me. And some of those people would make me say things Joseph Stormbeck’s kid said - to pretend I was him - before they hurt me. At lunch, he… said one of them.”

“So Isaac’s _not_ safe, then,” Ryan said quietly. “If he’s with a Stormbeck. It doesn’t matter how far they run, you don’t escape Colleen Stormbeck with her own goddamn kid in your car. He’d only be safe _here_ , with you.”

He saw Danny consider the wisdom of that statement. He watched the conflict rage behind the wide blue eyes.

“He’s not mine to keep,” Danny said softly, after a pause. “I don’t keep people, Ryan. I don’t have _playthings_ like everyone else. I d-don’t… I don’t keep _p-p-pets-”_

“I know. You like him, though.”

“Yes.”

“You want him to stay here with you, with Nate.”

Danny’s face twisted, miserably. “Yes.”

“So sit him down and tell him he’s staying. You don’t have to hurt him, like you were hurt. You don’t have to, to tie him up or anything. Just… tell him he’s staying. I’ll tell our men. And we’ll make sure he can’t leave you, then. It might take a while, but he’d understand. He’d learn.”

Danny’s face twisted again - this time in anger. “Ryan, no. No, I can’t do that to him. I can’t be to him what they were to me, I can’t-”

“You don’t have to be, Dan! You’re not going to hurt him! You’re not going to, to fucking trade him around. He’ll be yours, _your_ kept man. You’re just going to, to give him a home here with you.”

“It’s not a home if he didn’t choose it!” Danny spits the words, a flare of the old anger in him, the way he used to be before he had been broken and remade into the nervous, worried, eager-to-please man that Ryan loves more than anything else in the world. “It’s not a family if he doesn’t want to be here!”

“Not at first.” Ryan read the want - the _need -_ in his brother, the twist of longing to take what Ryan was offering. To keep the first man he’d felt something for other than Nate in his bed, in his house, in his world. The way that Danny fought that desire, fought it so hard, when he didn’t have to. “But once he’s been here a while, and he understands that you're his family now... _You’ll_ be his home. Don’t you _want that?”_

“Of course I do, but not if _he_ doesn't want it... Why are you trying to make me do this?” Danny asked, and there were tears in his eyes. Ryan felt guilt stab him, for the first time. He’d pushed too far. He was only trying to give Danny what he wanted, to make his world better by making sure he lacked for nothing. But somehow he’d gone over the line, again.

“I’m not making you. I just… I can see that you want him, Danny, and we’re syndicate. This is what we can _do,_ with the good luck and the power we have. We can just… have what we want. And I want to make sure that you never, ever want for anything ever again. I owe you that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Danny said softly. “And I don’t want this.”

“Yes, you do. You would have, when we were younger-”

“I’m not that person anymore! I can’t… I can’t. I would never, ever do that to him.” Danny set his jaw, sniffed, rubbed at the tear tracks that had made their way down his cheeks, rubbing hard into the scars that marked him. “I would _never_ make him say he was mine, I would never-”

“I just want you to be happy,” Ryan said softly. “And he makes you happy.”

“I want _him_ to be happy,” Danny snapped. “And no one is happy being held against their will.”

“He’d understand why, after a while-”

“Yeah! Because he’d get, get fucking Stockholm Syndrome! Like I used to think I deserved it, all of it, because I was a Syndicate son! Because of what we fucking _do_ to people who get in our way! Because of shit exactly like what you want me to do to him!” Danny’s voice was loud, and a flock of birds took off in a rush from a nearby tree, a sudden fluttering of wings, a shadow across the sun. “You want me to fucking brand him, too, Ryan? Is that what you fucking want? Carve my initials into the back of his neck like Abraham Denner did to me?”

“I would never want you to hurt him-”

“This would fucking hurt him, Ryan! Making him stay with me when he doesn’t want to, watching his face when he had to see them leave without him… Having sex with him would be _rape-"_

"I mean, if you want to see it that way-"

"I do! I _do_ see it that way! I couldn’t, I’d be no better than _them_ , and, and… jesus, Ryan-”

“Christ, Danny, I just want you to be happy-”

“I’d be miserable! It would hurt me to do it!” Danny’s voice rose even louder. “We’re both already broken, how much more do you want us to _break?!”_

The sounds from the backyard of people laughing and talking had stopped.

“Quiet,” Ryan said, keeping his own voice low. “If they know what we just talked about, they’d pack all their stuff and be gone in a heartbeat. You still have a another full day with him. Don’t jeopardize that.”

“I… Ryan. I really, really like him. I do, I want him so badly to be here with me, but-”

“I get it.” Ryan put his hands back up. “I get it, Dan. I’m sorry I said anything. You know how I feel about, about humans mostly-”

“I know.” Danny sniffed, glancing over his shoulder. Nate was coming around the side of the house, and Danny waved at him, a quick raise of his hand to show it was okay. Nate came to a stop and looked at the two of them. Even from so far away, Ryan could read him, too.

_danny might need help I want to help I want to be able to help I can help he has been so hurt he deserves the world I want to give him the world I want be there for him I can’t believe he loves me I can’t believe he cares about someone who only stood by and watched them hurt him I don’t deserve him I wish I could deserve him I want to deserve him_

Nate’s thoughts - his wants, his needs - were nearly always the same.

“What matters is our family,” Ryan said, firmly. “Mom, and Dad, and you, and me. You know that. If they threatened us I’d kill any one of them in a heartbeat, without question. What matters is _family._ I couldn’t protect you when it mattered. But I can give you Isaac now.”

“I don’t _want_ you to _give him to me._ I want…” Danny swallowed. “I want him to be happy. And he’ll never be happy here with me. Because it would never be his choice to stay.”

"It doesn't _have_ to be his choice. You don't _have_ to give him one."

Danny's jaw set, stubbornness and his redhead's temper flaring again. "Yeah, I _do."_

Ryan sighed. “Fine. I guess your mind’s made up on this.”

“It is. When he leaves, I’ll be sad, but… but I’d rather he leave and be happy than stay here and be a fucking _plaything.”_

“Danny, I just want you to have the things you want in life now-”

“I know. And… and thank you, Ryan.” Danny hesitated, then said softly, “But I can’t have him for long. He’s not mine to keep.”

He turned and walked back to the house, and Ryan stayed where he was leaning against the low stone wall. Still standing to the side of the house, Nate watched, too, before he moved to Ryan, the question on his lips, in his eyes. 

Before he could speak it, Ryan waved one hand. “I fucked up. Go take care of it.”

“You d-don’t give me orders, Michaelson,” Nate said, an edge to his voice. “I don’t w-w-work for you.”

“Technically, Vandrum, you do. Just… he could use some comfort.” Ryan swallowed, eyes trailing towards the rise of the trees behind the house. “... take Isaac to bed again, tonight.”

Nate blinked, shaking his head a little, more in confusion than rejecting the idea. “What? I mean, th-that was th-th-the plan, to ask, he’s m-mostly been with us s-s-since that first… why?”

“He’s only got a day or so before they’re gone.” Ryan sighed. “Give Danny what he wants, for now. While he lets himself have it.”

Nate looked like he had about ten thousand more questions, but he only nodded and turned, walking back to the house. Ryan sat with his arms crossed for a long time, feeling the stone beneath him slowly warm to his body heat.

He thought about the cracked longing in the way Danny had said _he’s not mine to keep._

 _But he could be,_ Ryan thought. _He could be yours. You don’t have to ask, it doesn’t have to be a choice, and why does what he wants matter more than what you want, when you suffered so much and for so long?_

He could read what people wanted across their eyes and their faces, could understand their longing and how to respond to it, the ways that would get everyone what they wanted most, in the end. He couldn’t understand his brother, and how he could want something so much, have the capability to take it, and… just let it go.

When all he had to do was _make_ Isaac stay.


	10. The Last Night

Vera knocked softly on Ryan’s door. She knew he was up still. The boy didn’t seem to sleep until late most nights. She thought she could hear movement on the other side of the door, but she couldn’t be sure. _Good thing these walls are thick._

Ryan opened the door and smiled as soon as his eyes rested on Vera and Tori in the doorway. He ran a hand slowly through his hair as his eyes moved between them. “Hey. Do you guys need something?”

“Um.” Tori glanced shyly at Vera and stepped a little closer, almost into the doorframe. “So it’s… um…” She reached back and laced her hand through Vera’s. “So we were… wondering…”

Vera cleared her throat. “It’s our last night here. Tori and I would like to get to know you better before we go.”

Ryan’s face broke into a radiant smile and he opened the door a little wider. “Oh. Great. I… Come on in.”

Tori stepped into the room first, a hint of a blush on her cheeks. Vera followed close behind with her hands on Tori’s waist. She squeezed just a little. Tori placed her hands on Vera’s and squeezed back.

“So,” Ryan said easily, as if they’d asked to have coffee with him. He sat casually on the bed. “You two…”

“We’re together,” Vera said. “And we’d like to fuck you together. Please.”

Ryan laughed delightedly. “Would you, now?” His tone was teasing.

“Yup.” Vera smiled wickedly as she kissed the back of Tori’s neck. Tori gasped, her head falling back against Vera’s shoulder. Vera had teased her relentlessly before they’d headed to Ryan’s room. Brought her to the edge. Pulled her back. Brought her there again. _“I want you so ready when we get there that you come on his cock over and over,”_ Vera had purred in her ear. Tori bit her lip. Vera looked back at Ryan, lounging on the bed. “I want you to take off your clothes.”

Ryan quirked an eyebrow up over his smile. “Don’t need to ask me twice.” As his shirt came off over his head, Vera and Tori both took a quick inhale at the bronze planes of his chest and abdomen. He was perfectly formed. Beautiful. Vera let go of Tori’s hip and walked to the edge of the bed. She reached for her belt buckle and undid it. She eased her pants down her legs. She climbed onto the bed beside Ryan. Tori was already following suit.

“Can I touch you?”

Vera’s stomach dropped at Ryan’s words. She looked up at him. His amber eyes were shining with desire in a way that made Vera’s mouth water. His hands were folded gently in his lap. She felt Tori climb onto the bed beside her, completely naked. “Um…”

Ryan’s smile was soft. “I know you’ve been… through some things.” He tilted his head. “And I know you came to me but I want to make sure you know… I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.”

Vera’s eyes burned with sudden tears. _No. No way I’m starting this threesome off fucking crying. No. Fuck that shit._ She cleared her throat. “Um. Thank you.”

“So you just let me know if I do anything that goes too far, okay?”

Vera swallowed. “Okay.” Her hands went to the hem of her shirt. “That’s why I… um… left this on to start. I have um… a lot of scars.”

Ryan’s eyes softened. “You all do.”

Tori’s hand wound through Vera’s and squeezed. Vera pressed a kiss to Tori’s shoulder.

“And not like… like this.” She gestured to her legs. They were striped with stray whip marks, and one place on her thigh where Joseph had decided to cut her over and over. “Like… _way_ worse.”

Ryan nodded. “I understand. But Vera…” He pushed himself up to his knees and crawled forward until he was directly in front of her. Her lips trembled as he met his eyes, fell into their depths a little. _Fuck, I want to get lost in there._ He brought his hands gently to either side of her face. “…you’re exquisite. Don’t know if you’ve noticed.” He pressed his lips gently against hers.

She trembled at the feel of his tongue along her bottom lip. She felt Tori’s lips on her neck and she shivered. Her eyes fluttered as Ryan took her bottom lip gently into his mouth and sucked.

Tori’s hands wandered down to the hem of Vera’s shirt and looped under. “Can I take this off, babe?” she whispered in Vera’s ear. Vera swallowed, her lips still locked with Ryan’s. She nodded. Tori’s fingers grazed up Vera’s sides as she drew the shirt up and over her head. They raised goosebumps in a path up to her chest. Vera’s breath caught in her throat.

Tori tossed the shirt to the floor and immediately returned her hands to Vera’s skin. Vera’s mouth was open against Ryan’s, her tongue pressing into his mouth. He moaned softly as she scraped her teeth along his lip. Tori knelt behind Vera and pressed herself against her. Vera could feel Tori’s nipples brush against her back, the sensation faded from the layers of scars that marred her skin. Vera was trapped between Tori and Ryan, warmed by their touch, moving with them together. A mess of skin and mouths and hands.

Vera moaned as Tori’s hand trailed across her hips, sliding against Ryan, until her fingers stopped at her sex. She squeezed her eyes shut and gasped as Tori ran her finger over her clit.

She broke the kiss with Ryan and craned her neck backwards to kiss Tori deeply. She wrapped her hand around the back of Tori’s neck and pressed her mouth harder against Tori’s lips. Tori’s tongue moved slowly against hers as Tori’s other hand moved to pinch Vera’s nipple between her fingers.

Ryan bent forward and licked a stripe down Vera’s neck, his tongue brushing softly over scars and skin alike. He kissed his way down her chest and stopped at her other nipple. He pulled it gently into his mouth and sucked.

Vera cried out at the feeling of Tori’s fingers at her clit and her breast, of Ryan’s warm breath against her chest. He rolled her nipple between his teeth and she jolted.

“Does this feel good, babe?” Tori whispered into her ear.

Her jaw fell open as Tori’s fingers pinched a little harder. “Ah. Yes. God. _Fuck.”_

Ryan grinned up at her. “Yes, please.”

“Oh, god,” Vera sighed. “Okay. Okay, just… no… biting, or pain, or… and don’t say –”

“I know the word already,” Ryan murmured as he cupped her breast, smoothing his thumb over her nipple. He caught her mouth with his again.

She whispered against his lips. “And no, um…”

“Yeah?” Ryan pressed a kiss against the corner of her mouth.

“I don’t want you… inside me.”

“Okay. We don’t have to do that.”

Tori’s hand tangled in Ryan’s hair and she pulled him forward over Vera’s shoulder into a kiss. “But I want you to fuck me,” she whispered.

Ryan sighed against her mouth. “Oh. Fuck. Yes please.”

Vera pushed Ryan back against the bed. His cock, trapped between them, sprung free, and Vera bit her lip at the sight. _He’s beautiful. Every damned part of him._ She bent and ran her tongue from the plane of his hip, up his abdomen, to his chest, and all the way to his neck. He shivered and let his eyes slide shut. “Do you have any condoms?” she whispered in his ear. His breath quivered in his chest as he nodded. She nibbled at his jaw. “Then how about you put one on while I make sure my girlfriend is ready?” She pulled away and savored the brief flash of disappointment that crossed his face before it was replaced by playful appreciation. He reached for his nightstand.

Vera turned back to Tori. Her stomach dropped at the look of naked desire that ran across Tori’s face. Her mouth hung slightly open, her eyes bright with lust. Tori had her hand against her own sex and was touching herself gently.

Vera drew close to Tori and pulled her into a kiss. Her tongue moved against Tori’s lower lip as her hand slid down to Tori’s sex. Vera’s fingers trembled as she felt how wet Tori was, how _ready._ She brought her lips to Tori’s ear. “What do you say we fuck this boy?” she whispered. Tori nodded.

They both turned back to Ryan. He was lying on his back, his cock hard in his hand, with a condom already on. Vera grinned. Ryan reached out with one hand and pulled her closer.

“Please,” he murmured. _“Christ,_ I want you both.”

Vera crawled so she was positioned kneeling above Ryan’s head, looking down at his body. Ryan looked up at her from between her thighs. A look of reverence and desire was shining on his face. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw that look on a man’s face.

“Vera,” he said with a slight giggle, “would you please do me the honor of sitting on my face?”

She felt a flood of heat between her legs. _“Fuck_ yes.”

Ryan reached back and guided her hips up and over his face. He tilted his head back and she shivered at the feeling of his breath on her sex. Then his tongue brushed gently against her clit and she gasped.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ she moaned. She opened her eyes to see Tori smiling at her, her own hand busy between her legs. “Come here, babe,” Vera groaned. “Come here.”

Tori grinned and threw one leg over Ryan’s hips. She grasped his cock in her hand and stroked him a few times. He gasped and bucked into her hand. The movement sent a stab of pleasure through Vera and she gasped, too. Tori positioned herself over his cock and lined him up against her entrance. His hand searched for her and settled on her thigh. She closed her eyes and slid down his length.

Ryan and Tori moaned together as he filled her. The feeling sent a wave of ecstasy through Vera and her tongue suddenly looked a little too big for her mouth as she looked at her girlfriend, naked and gorgeous, gasping on this man’s cock. She reached out and pulled Tori in for a kiss.

Tori groaned into her mouth as she leaned forward, grinding against Ryan’s hips. Tori gasped as Ryan found her clit with his thumb and pressed in his gentle circles. Vera caught her as she fell forward. Tori stroked Vera’s nipple with one hand and braced herself up with the other.

Vera’s mind swirled with pleasure. Tori’s warm mouth against hers, her clever fingers at her nipple, and the man beneath her sucking and licking against her sex all made her skin feel like it was going to burst into flames. She felt sweat as it shimmered on her body, except for where her scars were. Ryan slowly dragged his nails down her back with his other hand. She sighed with the sensation.

Tori was riding Ryan hard already, gasping and moaning as he brought her to the climax she’d been needing ever since Vera had teased her. The motion rocked Ryan’s mouth against her, sparked a swirl of sweet pleasure that began to glow and spread through her body. Tori moaned with agony and pleasure as she approached the release Vera knew she’d been craving for hours. Tori pulled away from Vera for a moment, arching back and nearly crying out with ecstasy as her orgasm swept through her. Her skin glistened in the low lamplight as she moved against Ryan, shuddering, panting as her eyes rolled back. Vera leaned forward and drew her tongue along the salt on Tori’s chest. Tori whimpered softly.

Vera tangled her hands in Tori’s hair and guided her forward until she could whisper in her ear again. “Let us give you another one, babe. Let us bring you that.” Tori’s chest heaved and she nodded, her head looking a little loose on her neck. Ryan went right back to making those circles against Tori’s clit.

Vera was starting to tremble at what Ryan was doing to her. She felt the shimmering, golden pleasure moving through her body, starting at her sex and moving out, sweeping through her with each swipe of his tongue. She groaned as Tori pulled her back into a kiss, her lips against Tori’s as she began to move on Ryan’s cock again.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Vera groaned. Her climax was coiling tightly in her pelvis and she could feel her hips starting to buck into Ryan’s mouth. He pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked, harder than before. Vera’s mouth fell open against Tori’s and she cried out.

“Come on, babe,” Tori whispered. “Come with me. Let’s do it together.”

Vera whined and her head fell onto Tori’s shoulder. “Okay. I just… holy shit…”

“Yeah. Oh, _Christ_ … Ah…”

“Oh my god. Babe, I’m getting close…”

Tori drew her tongue down Vera’s ear. “Yeah babe. Come with me. _Fuck,_ I love you so much.”

Vera couldn’t stop it now. Her body was vibrating with pleasure, the waves moving through her faster and faster until she could barely _breathe,_ barely even _see._ Her hand tightened on Tori’s hip until it must have hurt. Still Tori rutted against Ryan, slamming her hips down on his, until all Vera could hear was the sound of their skin and her moans and Tori’s quivering gasps in her ear and Ryan, starting to moan now beneath her. The sound of his pleasure only drove her harder to her climax.

Her orgasm broke and rushed through her. She cried out and threw her head back as ecstasy poured through her blood. Her body buzzed with satisfaction as Tori whimpered and screamed softly with her own climax. They both slumped forward against each other, kissing each other’s shoulders as they swam in the glow.

Ryan was bucking up into Tori now, whimpering, stroking her thigh and moving his tongue in almost frantic swipes against Vera’s clit. She shuddered and moaned as another orgasm started to build. “Tori,” she whispered, “we should probably let the poor boy come.”

Tori grinned at her. “Hop off. I want to play with him a little. Maybe grab the thing I brought out of my pants. And then…” Tori’s thumb ran over Vera’s bottom lip. “I want to play with you until you can barely walk.”

Vera’s mouth went dry. “Oh, fuck. Um. Okay.”

She leaned forward and dismounted from Ryan’s face. His features were pulled into an expression of desperate pleasure, his mouth fallen open as his chest heaved. “Holy shit,” he panted. “Jesus Christ, you two…” He watched Vera climb off the bed and rummage through Tori’s pants. His eyes went to where he was buried to the hilt in her, and then up to her face. “Oh… _god_ …”

Vera grinned as Tori leaned over Ryan. “Do you want to come?” Tori whispered.

Ryan swallowed and wiped some of Vera’s wetness from his mouth. “Oh, god. Um. Yes. Please.”

“Hm.” She brought her lips to his neck and kissed her way up to his ear. _“Beg me,”_ she whispered. Vera shivered with pleasure to hear those words out of Tori’s mouth.

 _“Please,”_ he whined. Tori sat up with a smirk. She started to ride him again, hard, her body rippling with each bounce. Vera’s mouth fell open with how beautiful she looked.

Ryan was starting to moan again, and his hand went back to Tori’s clit. Her eyes slid closed and she sighed as she worked her hips against his, bringing him to his own climax. His hands fisted in the sheets and his back arched off the bed with a low scream. Tori’s body spasmed as she came for a third time.

They sat together for a moment, Ryan softening inside Tori as they both caught their breath. Vera watched them both, admiring, touching herself. She was smiling softly.

Tori slumped off of Ryan, still quivering from the aftershocks. After another moment he pulled the condom off and dropped it into the wastebasket by his bed.

Tori reached out a hand for Vera and pulled her back onto the bed. Ryan watched them with hazy eyes. Tori pulled Vera into a kiss and took the vibrator from her hand.

Ryan pushed himself up to sitting. Tori looked at him. “Will you hold Vera? Make her feel good while I use this?” His eyes widened and he nodded vigorously. He moved himself up until he was sitting against the headboard, spreading his legs so Vera could settle herself between them. She leaned back against his chest. She could feel his heart pounding still as he came down from his orgasm. She opened her legs for Tori. Tori leaned forward and kissed her deeply. Then she switched the vibrator on and moved down between Vera’s legs.

Vera stiffened and shuddered as Tori gently pressed the vibrator against her clit. She was still sensitive from her last orgasm. But Tori was careful. Tori knew her body. She could trust Tori with her pleasure like she could trust no one else.

Ryan’s hands went to Vera’s shoulders. He brushed his fingers over her skin, pressing in where there were tense spots, floating over her scars. He tilted her head to the side and kissed her neck. “Is this okay?” he whispered. She nodded.

His hands wandered lower, to her nipples again. They hardened in response to his touch. He touched her, stroked her, massaged her, putting his hands on every inch of her skin. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Vera’s attention centered around the toy in Tori’s hands. Tori touched her, took it away, moved it in circles, held it in one place. Only ever long enough to make another orgasm rise to the surface. Never enough to make it break. Vera whimpered.

“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” she stroked her fingers through Tori’s hair. “Jesus _Christ._ I wasn’t this mean.”

“You _absolutely were,”_ Tori purred, and removed the vibrator to press her lips against Vera’s sex instead. “Fair’s fair?”

“God… _dammit,_ Tori. I’m sorry. You’re just…” Vera gasped as Tori made a particularly daring sweep along her clit. “You’re just too good.”

Tori brought herself up so she was kneeling between Vera’s legs. She fixed Ryan with a wicked grin. “What do you think?”

Ryan looked up from where he was sucking little marks into the skin on Vera’s shoulder, where they would be out of sight. “Huh? Um…” He licked his lips. “You’re _damned_ good at teasing her.”

Tori shrugged with a smile. “Okay. I’ve proven my point.” She turned up the vibrator. “Come for me, babe. As many times as you want.” She moved the vibrator over Vera’s clit.

Vera jerked and gasped at the sensation. She moaned as Tori made slow, even circles, coaxing her up into another orgasm. She reached back and pulled Ryan’s mouth against hers. “If Tori’s okay with it,” she murmured, “I want to watch you fuck her from behind as she does this to me.”

Tori’s head snapped up from where she was working. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Oh. _God,_ yes.”

Ryan was out from behind her so quickly she nearly fell back against the bedframe. He reached for the condoms in his nightstand and rolled one on over his cock. He was hard again.

Vera adjusted herself and sat up a little against the headboard, enough so she could see the other two. Tori centered herself over Vera’s sex again and got back to work. The movement made another wave of pleasure sweep through Vera, rising much faster this time. She gasped and leaned back against the headboard. Ryan positioned himself behind Tori and kissed down her back. He reached between her legs, his eyes fluttering closed when he felt how wet she was. His hands gently caressed her hips as he lined himself up against her. Pleasure swept up inside Vera, so sharp it was almost painful.

She unraveled just as Tori moaned at Ryan entering her.

Tori went right back to pleasuring Vera, her movements a little more clumsy as Ryan fucked her gently, moving in and out. His hands moved over her back and hips, reached between her legs to stroke her clit. Tori gasped and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Vera whimpered as Tori stopped the circles with the vibrator and Tori started them again.

 _Fuck, I love vibrators._ Vera was already rising up into another orgasm, this one more powerful than the last. She barely had time to catch her breath before it swept over her. She cried out, her hips bucking up into Tori. She heard Tori and Ryan both moan in appreciation.

Again, already. Golden heat and sweet pleasure running through her, breaking on her like a wave. Sweat glistened on her skin. She panted and tried to slow her breath. Tori’s whimpers made her sex flush with heat, making her so swollen it was almost painful.

 _“Fuck,_ Tori,” she moaned. “Turn the vibrator up…”

Tori leaned down and kissed Vera’s sex. “Ryan, fuck me hard. Fuck me until I’m screaming.”

They all moaned together and moved at the same time. Vera nearly came up off the bed as Tori pressed the vibrator against her sex again, her vision going white as another orgasm started almost immediately. Tori pitched forward as Ryan thrust into her, burying himself deep inside. They all began to move together.

Again, Vera was swept up in another climax. Almost as soon as that one had finished moving through her, again. And again. She was sure she sounded entirely unhinged. But when she looked down at Tori, she was looking up at her with rapturous love as she was thrust forward over and over. And behind her, Ryan looked like he was seeing god. Sweat dripped down his face and he bit his lip as he rolled his hips into Tori, again and again and again.

Another climax. Vera was nearly incoherent, her voice rising and falling with each wave. She felt like she was being tossed about. She didn’t know which way was up. All she knew was the feeling of piercing, overwhelming ecstasy and the sight of the woman she loved looking up at her between her legs.

Tori pitched forward with a scream as she came again, nearly diving headfirst into Vera’s sex. Vera laughed and her hand moved to Tori’s hair. Tori abandoned the vibrator and locked her mouth over Vera’s sex. Vera cried out as it brought her over the edge of yet another orgasm. Tori was whining against her clit. Every thrust from Ryan sent another wave of pleasure through Vera, perfectly timed to the rhythm of Tori’s tongue.

She was nearing the end of her sanity. She didn’t think it was physically possible for her body to hold this much pleasure. She’d been brought to this point with Tori before, and it bewildered her every time that her body was capable of feeling this much ecstasy. She didn’t understand how it was possible.

Another orgasm swept that thought away.

Ryan’s thrusts into Tori were reaching a breakneck speed and they were both moaning together in a way that made Tori’s chest tighten. _God, they’re both so hot. I want to just stay in this room with them forever._ Tori’s voice was rising in pitch. The vibration against Vera’s clit made her eyes roll back. She felt Tori’s mouth spasm against her clit, felt her shudder just as Ryan’s breath caught in his throat. He thrust himself as deep as he could into Tori with a heavy moan, his hips bucking hard as he shuddered into his climax. Tori came with a cry, just as one last orgasm swept through Vera’s blood. For a moment they all moaned together, bodies buzzing with sex and pleasure and love. Then Tori collapsed forward against Vera. Ryan slumped back, his hand going to his hair and smoothing through. After he caught his breath, he removed the condom and disposed of it in the wastebasket.

Vera could barely move. She felt numb in early limb. It was as if she was floating a few inches above her actual body, swimming through pleasure and satisfaction. She was exhausted, in the sweetest way she’d ever felt. She licked her lips and tried to move.

“No, no,” Tori murmured. She clumsily pushed Vera back down to the bed as she crawled to her side. Her legs were trembling. She collapsed beside Vera and snuggled against her chest.

Ryan was still kneeling on the bed, staring at them both with a look of utter awe and enjoyment. His hair was hopelessly askew, his cheeks flushed, his mouth pulled into a goofy grin that made both women laugh. Vera held out a hand to him and he took it. He made his way to her other side and cuddled up against her.

Tori reached for the blankets and pulled at them. They all braced themselves up a little and helped her guide it out from underneath them. She pulled them back over them and settled down against Vera with a sigh.

It was several minutes before anyone could speak.

Vera smacked her lips. “Um.” She swallowed hard. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Tori mumbled. She was already almost asleep.

Ryan chuckled. “Goddesses, both of you. Jesus Christ. Thank you. That was… um… amazing.”

Vera laughed. “I’m really happy we got to know you better, Ryan.”

He grinned and traced her chest with his finger. “You’ll have to come back some time,” he murmured. “Or just stay forever.”


	11. Enter Corrine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the story takes... a turn.

Very little rattled Corrine Michaelson. 

She was feeling more than a little rattled now, and she did not  _ like that feeling.  _ She very badly wanted someone to punish for it.

She twisted her ring around one finger, large blocky gold with the slightly raised  _ M  _ at the top, with a twist of vines around it, and settled back into the soft cushions of the section couch in her eldest son’s formal living room.

“What do you mean, they’re  _ gone?”  _

She looked up at the three men arrayed before her - Nate Vandrum, who stood largely relaxed with his hands clasped behind his back, and two of the Michaelson’s armed guards.

Nate stared back at her with his jaw set, with the unreadable green eyes that softened only for Daniel. Corrine had little use for mortal humans beyond their usefulness to  _ her,  _ but she would have given Nate a job even if Daniel had not been the one he rescued. When a man spends six months planning and then burns a house full of people alive to get vengeance for someone … a smart Syndicate sees the  _ potential  _ in having that sort of careful, analytical violence properly directed.

Directed at the protection of her son, and of hunting down those who had sullied the Michaelson family and insulted them by using him against his will, Nate Vandrum was an employee she very nearly liked.

In this moment, she liked him less.

“J-Just what I said, ma’am,” Nate said quietly. “We let our g-g-guard down, and th-they left without approval. Without w-w-warning. They left their th-things behind and we were unable to catch up to them in time. We think they must have h-h-had some warning.” 

Corrine could not read people like her son and husband could, but she saw the way a muscle twitched in Vandrum’s cheek, and she  _ wondered.  _

Nate seemed aware of her scrutiny, as he shifted just slightly and straightened his spine. “They even l-l-left one of their oh, own behind.”

“Did they now?” Corrine blinked, surprised. That was at least  _ something,  _ although she couldn’t imagine whatever poor sap they’d left behind could be of any  _ use.  _ Well, there wasn’t a living, breathing, bleeding mortal on Earth who couldn’t be of at least a temporary use to Corrine Michaelson, but…

Her fingernails, painted a deep beige-pink to pop against her dark brown skin, began to tap lightly on the fabric of the couch. 

“Yes. His name is Isaac Moore.” Nate paused - it was barely a moment, but Corrine caught it. “We don’t know what purpose he serves to the group itself - but they don’t appear to have hesitated to leave him. He’s st-still out with D-Danny, in the woods. I’ve c-confirmed with our men that Isaac Moore and Danny are ac-accounted for. But the r-r-rest of them are gone.”

Corrine frowned. She had come here expecting to find the little ragtag band of  _ heroes  _ still kept in place, effectively held like zoo animals waiting for her to decide their exhibits. 

She could sell them back to the Stormbecks one by one - she’d heard the family was  _ desperate  _ to get their hands on them. The man who had once run their Syndicate was blissfully dead now, and honestly Corrine had been looking forward to meeting the one she’d heard was responsible for murdering him. He had insulted her deeply, once, a long time ago.

Corrine did not leave grudges _ behind _ . She did not forgive or forget. She held every slight, every insult, every attempt to overthrow her carefully close, and waited. In this, perhaps she had waited too long. 

She hadn’t exactly decided to sell them, yet - but had considered it, and Danny’s house would no longer do. Her eldest son had a reputation, since his return from his unfortunate  _ waylaying  _ by those anti-syndicate mercenaries, for being… weak.

Unwilling to take the harsh steps necessary to maintain control. Unable to even really be part of running the Syndicate at all. He’d holed up here in an old summer home and Corrine had begun to understand that her eldest son - adopted, as a child, to shield her youngest from too much scrutiny - could not be trusted to keep them if they wanted to go.

She was surprised to discover they had gone without Danny even  _ knowing.  _

“You will question everyone who has worked this house the entire length of their visit,” Corrine said, her voice brusque and sharp.

Nate Vandrum nodded, once, as did the men on either side of him.

“Nate, I need your absolute focus on this,” Corrine said quietly, steepling her fingers together. “I want you to  _ find them.  _ I cannot have them escape my territory without my knowledge, I  _ cannot.  _ I will not be shown to be  _ weak.” _

“Yes, ma’am. I take full r-r-responsibility for the f-failure to maintain their security h-here-”

“Yes.” Corrine frowned at Daniel’s bodyguard and partner. He looked right back at her, with no discernable expression at all. She wished, briefly, she had her husband’s ability to  _ understand  _ people, to know the wants and needs of humans at their basest depths. “You  _ will _ take responsibility. This is your fault and your failure.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice did not change. Even and strong, the constant presence at Daniel’s back. The shadow of her son, stronger than her son could ever be now. Corrine felt a flicker of something like affection, deep within a heart that rarely felt it for anyone she wasn’t married to or the mother of. 

“You say my son at least is accounted for? Along with this… Isaac person?” Corrine sighed, rubbing at her temples with one hand. “Does he have any useful intel? Have you discerned his potential usefulness to the Michaelson group?”

Nate paused again. His expression did not change, but there was a calculation there, a consideration. Corrine looked up at him.  _ He is trying to decide how much to tell me,  _ she thought. But Nate was loyal to Daniel in ways that ran deeper than the blood she might otherwise have made him shed for her. He would never have hidden a single thing that could bring Danny risk or harm, and she knew it.

She couldn’t read people like her husband and son could, but you didn’t have to. Nate wore his loyalty, his devotion, like visible armor. As long as Daniel was in this world to protect and to shield, Nate could not be harmed by knife or bullet or a mother’s hunger for someone to blame.

And for all her coldness, Corrine would not have taken him from Daniel - she could never even have begun to make herself try. Daniel had suffered, for the choice Corrine had made in bringing him into their home. He had suffered for years as a stand-in for every choice the anti-Syndicate fools hated the Michaelsons for. 

Daniel had come home, to his parents and to his brother. Corrine could indulge him in allowing him the love he had found in the darkness.

“I don’t believe h-he knows m-m-much, ma’am,” Nate said carefully. “He s-seems to be a sort of… fighter, for th-the group. He has a lot of physical c-c-capability in combat but I wouldn’t s-s-say he’s.. overburdened with knowledge.” His eyes slowly raised, looking at something behind her. “Not knowledge w-we can use, anyway.”

“Damn. Can I kill him?”

Nate blinked and his eyes jerked back down. “Ma’am? Are you… asking?”

“Yes. I don’t want to, if there’s a good reason not to, but I dislike that his little  _ friends  _ left without my permission or my say-so. I dislike that they abandoned one of their own, and I  _ immensely dislike  _ the idea of feeding, clothing, and housing a useless scrap of flesh.” Corrine tilted her head to the side, crossing one leg over the other in the tight-fitting deep red suit she wore, her hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She  _ looked  _ like power, and she knew it. 

Patrick was the nominal head of the Michaelson Group, but Corrine was the bite behind his charming smile - and everyone knew it. A precious lucky few even knew  _ why. _

“I have a deep  _ need to fuck someone up,  _ Vandrum, and it might as well be the runt they left behind.”

“I w-w-wouldn’t, ma’am,” Nate said, and swallowed. She watched his Adam’s apple bob with unusual nervousness. He seemed… pale, and when she thought about it, she could hear the way his heartbeat had sped up.

“And why not?”

“Because… ah, b-because…”

Behind her, she heard the back door from the kitchen open, the sound of her son’s soft, half-breathless laughter. Another male voice laughing with him.

“Do you, um, do you… do you want to see if anyone wants, um, lunch?” Daniel’s voice sounded lighter - stronger - than it had since he’d come home. Corrine’s eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline.

She… couldn’t remember the last time she had heard Daniel laugh like that, speak like that, to anyone but Nate Vandrum. And then only rarely. 

“I… yeah, sure, let’s do it, but first - come here,” The second voice replied, with the same shy flirtation. There was a pause, and then the two men laughed again.

Corrine looked back at Nate, who gave her a slight, uncertain smile. “D-D-Danny likes him,” Nate said softly.

The sound of footsteps, low voices. Corrine knew the exact moment when Daniel noticed the back of her head, and Nate in front of her. His voice died mid-sentence.

She heard his steps stumble to a stop. 

“Who-” The other male voice started, and Danny shushed him. Corrine felt a smile slowly widening across her face as she pushed herself to her feet and turned slowly around.

“Oh no,” Daniel said softly. He was standing in the doorway, still, with a  _ gorgeous  _ young man beside him, their fingers interlaced. As she looked at him, the straight backed posture he’d had became slightly bent, shoulders hunching, making himself smaller. “Um. Hi… hi, Mom. Isaac, this is… this is my mom. Corrine Michaelson.”

The young man’s eyes went wide - not as much fear as she might have wanted, but enough for a start - and his head whipped around to stare at Danny, and then back at Corrine, who moved with careful deliberation to walk around the side of the couch. Corrine had excellent sight, saw as well in the dark as the light, and she could see Daniel’s grip tighten on the young man’s hand. 

Isaac took a step back, but as soon as he did one of the Michaelson’s men was at his back, and there were more on either side. Boxing he and Daniel in. Making sure neither of them took a step away until Corrine was ready. 

“Hello, darling,” Corrine said with a distinct lack of emotion. Inside, though, she felt… proud.

Daniel had been angry and fighting, a difficult monster at home and the bane of her existence, but he’d never struggled at finding lovely men to bring home or go home with. He’d come back from his captivity too terrified to take that up again, too scared of his own skin. Unable to even touch a firearm, let alone pick one back up. Unwilling to act like he was expected to.

Corrine had been wondering if he ever would - mortal humans were a mystery to her, in many ways. 

To see him holding on to anyone but Nate was, Corrine understood, a sign that he had taken a step out of the darkness inside his own head. He was closer to what he should be, back to being a true Syndicate son.

She was so proud of him. She understood the potential value of the man he was holding hands with in an entirely new way.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” Daniel asked, not quite accusatory. They had always had a difficult relationship, but Corrine understood that often that was the way of children - not everyone could be Ryan, laughter and smiles and exactly what you needed him to be. Daniel had been adopted largely to serve a purpose, but… it was hard to live with a human, day in and day out, and not gain at least a little affection for them.

“I came to check on our guests,” Corrine said, and let her head fall to the side, listening to their hearts. Both beating rapidly, nervous adrenaline, uncertain and - in Danny’s case - all too aware of what she might do now.

“Imagine my surprise and dismay when I discovered they were not  _ here.” _

“They’re not  _ what?”  _ The young man asked, blinking, confused.

“The little gang of runaways we were so kind and generous to shield from their pursuers has, to a man, up and left without my permission.” Corrine paused. “Well… almost to a man. Looks like they left you behind.”

“I don’t-... I don’t understand,” Danny said softly. Corrine watched his eyes go to Nate, as he used his grip on Isaac to pull the other man slightly closer to him. “I don’t… they’re gone?”

“Y-Yes,” Nate said quietly. “They l-l-left.”

“That’s… they wouldn’t.” She saw the first rush of true fear in Isaac, the way the blood moved just under his skin. Corrine fought the urge to lick her lips. He really was gorgeous. Daniel could have done so much worse, in choosing his first plaything since he’d come home. Not that he’d ever had any before, but… he would have come around, she was sure of it.

Perhaps it had only needed the  _ right  _ pretty man, with the  _ right  _ kind of vulnerability in his eyes. 

“You’re Isaac, I take it?” Corrine stepped closer, not waiting for him to acknowledge or answer before she continued. He tried again to step back, and the man behind him pushed him gently back into place. Daniel shot a glare over his shoulder, and the man looked impassively back. “You have been  _ abandoned,  _ Isaac. Your…  _ team…”  _ Her lip curled, just slightly, at the word. Not quite a sneer. “... is gone. They. Left. You.”

“Th-they left without w-w-warning,” Nate said from behind her, and Corrine watched Daniel’s eyes go to Nate’s, asking questions that Nate did not answer. “We let our g-guard down and they made it out before we knew what was happening.”

“No one does anything without you knowing about it,” Danny said, his mouth barely moving, as though his lips were numb. “No one.”

“They…  _ all  _ left?” Isaac asked. His voice began to shake. He let go of Danny’s hand, then, and as he tried to move away, his eyes darting to the open front door on the other side of the room - no doubt thinking just as much about the back door through the kitchen behind him - the men that had been closing him in reached out and grabbed him. “No!” 

“Isaac!” Daniel spun to look at him, then back at Corrine. “Tell them to let him go! Tell, tell-... g-give them the orders! Nate!”

“No, darling,” Corrine said, as gently as she could. “I need him to stay right here, for a moment, while we discuss this little… problem.”

“N-No, let me go, let me  _ go-”  _ Isaac kicked out at the legs of the nearest man. “No! Please! Please, please d-don’t-... Danny, tell them to-... Danny, help!”

Daniel looked between Corrine and Isaac, and he moved forward. “Drop him,” He ordered again, but his voice was weak. Her poor son - he was so out of practice giving orders, after spending four years taking them. “Let him  _ go.” _

“No,” The guard said flatly. “Ms. Corrine tells me to hold a guy, I do it.”

“But he’s not a  _ prisoner!” _

“Please,” Isaac repeated, more desperately struggling. The more he fought, the more the grip on him tightened. “Please, my team isn’t… they’re not-... they wouldn’t-”

“They would.” Corrine watched the way that Isaac fought - not hard enough, like only part of him even  _ wanted _ to fight them. Like a larger part already understood it was pointless. “They got in their little car, turned the key in the ignition, and drove  _ the fuck  _ away,” Corrine said, examining her nails. “Nate believes they were warned I was coming for a little  _ visit  _ and assumed that I would be taking you into my personal custody.” She looked up at him. “That was indeed the plan.” 

“No,” Isaac repeated, slumping forward. “No, _ no,  _ no…”

She flickered a smile. Perfect. 

Daniel was terrible, now, at taking what he wanted for himself. Corrine would simply help her eldest boy with a little… nudge.

“They wouldn’t,” Isaac said, but his voice was caught in his throat. Tears welled - nearly invisible, he was clearly trying to fight them back, but Corrine could feel them. She could hear the blood rush in his veins. She  _ wanted-...  _ but no. This one was Daniel’s.

Isaac face was ash-white. “No, they… they wouldn’t, they-”

“You must have been  _ spectacularly  _ useless to them,” Corrine said thoughtfully. She stepped a little closer, listening to the beating heart, the rush of blood. “For them to not even care enough to  _ tell you.” _

Something crossed Isaac’s expression - some hint of a deep wound, her aim had  _ almost _ struck true - but then it strengthened.  _ Defied her.  _ Corrine’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “It doesn’t work that way,” Isaac said, his voice shaking, but stronger now. “They, they wouldn’t leave me without… without a good reason-... they must have known something I didn’t-... known what you would do-”

“I feel like I shouldn’t have to repeat that the _ reason they left you _ is your spectacular uselessness, but here we are.” Corrine sighed, cracking her knuckles idly. “Daniel, you and your brother were supposed to ensure they never left the grounds before we were ready-”

“Where is Ryan?” Daniel interrupted her, blue eyes blazing, stepping towards her. “Where is he? Was… did he send you here? Is this because of him?”

Corrine couldn’t quite read the tone of Daniel’s voice, but one eyebrow raised. Something like… concern, but an angry concern. “Ryan is up at the house with Dad, working on some contracts we’ll be signing next week. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

Her son relaxed, just a little. “Good. Then this wasn’t his idea…” His voice trailed off, and he stepped up, between her and Isaac, who had gone nearly limp in the grip of the guards who held him. “Mom, Isaac doesn’t, he doesn’t, um, he doesn’t know anything you want-”

“I understand that,” Corrine said softly. “As far as my Syndicate is concerned, Isaac is of negligible value, it seems. Mr. Vandrum has assured me he knows  _ nothing.” _

“I know wh-who had valuable intel,” Nate said firmly. “It w-w-wasn’t him.”

“You…” Isaac raised his head now, staring over her shoulder at Nate. Corrine could have licked her lips at the  _ horror  _ that crossed his expression. “When we… we talked ab-about it, after… you were testing me for  _ intel?” _

“Yes,” Nate said flatly. “We n-n-needed to know. I didn’t t-tell Danny that was wh-why I asked those questions. Don’t bl-blame him.”

“All the time we talked…” Isaac trailed off. “The n-next day, and night, and the night after… it was just… you didn’t  _ care?  _ You just wanted  _ information?”  _

“I wanted D-Danny to get to kn-know someone,” Nate said quietly. “I wanted intel. Danny wanted you. I couldn’t know what you kn-knew if you hid in your r-r-room the whole t-time. So I invited y-you out to ours.”

Isaac slumped completely in the arms of the guards, and to Corrine’s absolute delight, began to cry.

Oh, that was  _ lovely _ . 

“Nate…” Daniel looked at Nate with wide eyes, and whatever communication passed between them in silence, Corrine couldn’t not have read. But whatever it was, Daniel’s initial expression of horror seemed to dampen. “Nate, his  _ family-” _

“D-Danny,” Nate said softly. “I h-had to.”

Danny shook his head, hair falling over his eyes, rubbing at the scar along his jaw with his thumb. “Just let him go,” Danny whispered. “Just… we can just drive him to the edge of our territory and, and let him go. Let him… let him look for his, um family-... his friends. We didn’t even need them, this was all just to mess with Colleen Stormbeck, right? We didn’t  _ need-” _

“We didn’t. But I changed my mind, and I… dislike that they have taken my plan from me.” Corrine reached out to touch Isaac’s face - he was lost in his tears, but he flinched back at the sudden hand in his field of vision.

Corrine paused. 

_ Interesting. _

“Don’t do that, please,” Daniel said softly, desperately, stepping closer to them. “Please. He doesn’t, um, he doesn’t like p-people just reaching out without _ asking _ l-like that-”

“And why is that, Daniel?” Corrine felt her breath come slightly faster. She was very interested now. “Is he the one Joseph kept? I didn’t peg Joseph for being interested in  _ men.” _

Isaac shook his head, sniffing, trying to keep under control. His voice shook with the tears he was trying in vain to hold back. “N-no, I didn’t… can we just, um, can we not-”

“So not Joseph,” Corrine mused, idly. “Then another member of the merry band was. I know the rumors say one of them murdered him… but it wasn’t you, was it, Isaac?” She drew his name out, played with it on her tongue.

Isaac swallowed, hard, shaking his head. “No, it, it wasn’t… I wasn’t the one who did that…”

“Thought not. But you have been  _ played with before.” _

Isaac’s eyes were on the floor. He breathed in shallow, shaking gasps, barely enough air to keep himself conscious. Corrine watched it all with a growing core of excitement spreading through her body. “Yes,” He whispered, brokenly. “I was.”

“By a Stormbeck?”

Isaac slowly nodded. “Yes.”

“Mom, you need to stop,” Daniel said, trying to sound firm but his voice was shaking nearly as much as Isaac’s. “This isn’t-... you don’t need to do anything to him. You shouldn’t. You can’t, please, he, his whole team trusted us-”

Corrine laughed. “Oh, did they? Not enough not to  _ run _ when they heard I was coming. Not enough not to leave someone behind rather than thank me in person for my kindness, my overwhelming  _ generosity, _ in allowing them safe haven in my territory. But… I don’t need to punish them. If they care for you so much, this moment will be punishment enough.”

She held out her hand.

One of the armed guards stepped forward and smoothly placed his personal handgun in her hand. 

Daniel’s face went white, and his eyes wide. The guards kicked Isaac’s legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground on his knees.

“There, that’s better,” Corrine said. “You look good kneeling.” She looked over her shoulder at Nate, who stared back impassively. “I can see the appeal. Should we put the gun in his mouth so I can get a better idea of how he looks when-”

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , ma’am,” One of the guards said, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, hush.” Corrine rolled her eyes. “Honestly, none of you have a sense of humor these days.”

“Oh god, no,” Isaac whispered. “No. Not now,  _ no… no,  _ S-Sam… I’m so sorry, Sam...”

“Mom,” Daniel said, shocked. The word barely a breath of sound. “Mom, please.”

_ Just a little push, darling. Just a touch. That’s all you need to step closer to what you were meant to be. _

“He’s a broken toy,” Corrine said, letting her voice twist sinuously around the words. “One of the Stormbecks already busted him up, didn’t they? He has no useful intel. He’s a pointless loose end his own team didn’t bother to tie up.”

“They wouldn’t leave me,” Isaac whispered, his eyes locked in terror on the metal pressed nearly into his face. When he tried to look away, a guard grabbed his hair and jerked his head back to force him to stare at it again. “They wouldn’t, they w-w-wouldn’t, please, please d-don’t kill me,  _ please…” _

“I dislike broken toys. So unless you can give me a good goddamn reason to let him live, he dies. Now.” Corrine fixed her son with an even stare and pressed the gun to the center of Isaac Moore's forehead.

_ Come on, Daniel, darling. Show me you’re still Syndicate, beneath all those scars. Show me. _

Daniel’s eyes were running tears, too, but he sniffed them back, set his shoulders back and spine straight. Towered over her, and stepped forward, putting his hand on the gun and pushing it down to point harmlessly at the floor. “I can, um, I can g-give you a reason,” Daniel said, his voice shaking, growing stronger as he spoke. “I can tell you why not to kill him.”

“Why?” Corrine asked. She did not drop her stare, and Daniel stared right back without lowering his eyes, without his reflexive hunching over. He stayed strong.

Her strong boy, who came back from hell sweeter. But she did not want sweetness now.

“Because I can’t  _ fuck _ him if he’s dead,” Daniel said, his voice flat, his eyes hollowed now and empty. The way he phrased the words was odd - almost as if he were repeating something he’d heard someone else say. “What good does a dead whore do anyone?”

On the floor on his knees, Isaac jerked in a breath all at once.

No one looked at him, now.

“You want him?” Corrine asked, knowing the answer already.

“Oh, god,” Isaac whimpered. “Oh god, no, no no  _ no…” _

“You’re always telling me that Syndicate sons and daughters keep playthings,” Daniel said, cocking his head, crossing his arms in front of himself. “Well, I’ve found mine.”

“How do you know if he’s going to be any good?”

“I’ve already tried him out.” Daniel’s mouth twisted, and still he spoke in that odd phrasing, as though he were repeating something once said in an entirely different accent. There was a strange distance in his eyes, as though… as though he stood somewhere outside himself, looking in. “He was  _ excellent.  _ Sucks cock like a champ and he knows how to ride me, all right. I was about to tie him to my bed when we got back to my room.”

Daniel’s throat moved, swallowing reflexively, repeatedly. His face was pale, the muzzle scars etched in deep red over the white skin.

“He knows how to take Nate and I at the same time. I’m not going to waste that kind of  _ potential.” _

“Oh, oh my god, oh fuck, I-” Isaac actually _ retched,  _ on the floor, but all that came up was sour spit. “Oh, oh my god, fuck, f-fuck, no,  _ no…” _

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” Corrine said, keeping her voice smooth, barely hiding her happiness.  _ That’s my boy.  _ “Perhaps we could call him your present. It’s far past time you had your first plaything.”

“Pl-play…”   


“Shut up, Isaac,” Corrine said. One of the guards smacked the back of Isaac’s head hard enough to jerk it forwards. “You are not part of this conversation.”

“D-Danny, please, please no, please don’t, please not you-”

“He doesn’t seem to want that,” Corrine said. A test. A slightly further push.

“I don’t care if he wants it, that’s not how it works.” Daniel moved between Corrine and Isaac, now, fully shielding the kneeling man from her view. “I  _ claim  _ Isaac Moore as mine. My plaything. I’m the only one who fucks him. He’s mine to do whatever I want with. His team left him and I own him now.  _ He’s mine.” _

The only sound from Isaac now was a broken wailing from his spot on the floor, weak thrashing that never broke the guards’ hold on his arms. 

Corrine nodded, slowly, and gave the handgun back to the guard who had given it to her. “Fair enough. I will consider that enough reason for him to live.” She snapped her fingers and the guards dragged Isaac to his feet. “But I can’t very well give you a present without there being an  _ unwrapping,  _ can I?”

Daniel paused. He clearly hadn’t expected this. “What?”

“Your party is tomorrow. I’ll get him ready for it - add a little something  _ special _ \- and you can  _ unwrap your plaything  _ then. He’s going to be  _ so pretty  _ on your arm. Do you think he’ll need a-” She cut herself off, but not before Daniel’s eyes widened. “No, darling, of course not. I’m sorry. I forgot for a moment that you can’t handle people who are  _ led  _ any longer. I have another way to keep him in line.” She looked to the guards. “Take him to my car.” They nodded, dragging Isaac towards the door, still crying and trying weakly to get free. But if it had seemed like part of him didn’t even want to fight anymore before… that part seemed to be in nearly total control of him now.

Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, no-... Mom, don’t-”

“No arguments.” Corrine said, and the tone of her voice snapped Danny’s mouth shut immediately. “We’ll get your new boy all cleaned up for you. You can see him tomorrow night. Nate, you’ll ensure Daniel arrives on time?”

Nate, standing with his arms crossed, nodded shortly. He didn’t look at Danny, or at Isaac, but at a spot on the wall. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, darling. I love you, baby boy, and let me say…” Corrine stepped up to her oldest son, who stared down at her, and leaned up. When he lowered himself, she kissed each cheek, one at a time, with slow deliberation. “I’m so proud of you for finally acting like one of us, Daniel. I’m so, so proud. I love you so much.”

His voice cracked when he said, “Th-thank you, Mom. I… I love you, too.”

Corrine turned to follow her guards and the sobbing man they dragged out the door, towards her car.

* * *

Danny stood there, frozen, until Corrine’s car had gone down the driveway and all the sound was gone.

Then he dropped.

He fell to the floor screaming in useless, impotent rage and fear. He curled himself into a ball and screamed into his own arms, screamed until his voice went hoarse, screamed until the sound meant nothing and was simply another part of the air.

He clawed at his own throat, at the collar scars until he tore open scratches that began to bleed. His stomach roiled and lurched and he threw up on the floor, threw up everything he’d eaten all day, sobbing and retching and throwing up and sobbing again until the only thing that came up was bile and more tears. 

Finally, he pushed himself up. When he felt a hand touch his shoulder he jerked back and away, only to stare up into Nate’s green eyes as the older man handed him water and dropped a towel on the mess on the floor. “It’s oh-okay, Danny,” Nate said, gently. 

“It’s not okay,” Danny groaned hoarsely. “It’s n-not. It’s not okay, it’s, oh god…” He retched again, dry-heaved in Nate’s arms, trying to make himself drink the water to get the taste out of his mouth. “I’m a fucking monster, I’m, I’m a, a monster, Nate… I’m a fucking  _ monster-” _

“No, you’re n-not.”

“I’m, I fucking did that to him, I made him what I used to be, I’m  _ just like them now!”  _ Danny felt tears on his face but barely recognized that he was the one crying. He groaned and spun, punching his fist into the wall until it hurt, again and again, until a smear of red appeared on the wall from bloodied knuckles. “I fucking, I’m a fucking, I  _ made him the goddamn puppy!” _

He screamed again, and the framed photos hung on the walls seemed to rattle at the volume of the sound.

“Y-you saved his life,” Nate said quietly, calmly. He took Danny in his arms - and Danny at first fought and twisted and tried to get free but finally collapsed into Nate’s arms, sobbing, letting the older man hold him tightly. “She would have sh-shot him. You made a h-hard choice to s-s-save a life.”

“His team left him, and then I  _ told Mom he’s a fucking whore for me,”  _ Danny wailed, and Nate shushed him, petting at his hair, rubbing at his back with his bad hand. “I told Mom he’s my  _ plaything,  _ I’m just like Abraham, I’m just like Ashley, I’m just like Joseph fucking Stormbeck and that’s why they called me his name when they hurt me, they were right, they were  _ right about me  _ and I deserved it when they fucked me and when they hurt me, I deserved it because I’m Syndicate, I  _ deserved it _ -”

“No y-y-you’re not, they weren’t, and you d-didn’t. And Isaac’s t-team didn’t leave him,” Nate murmured into Danny’s hair, kissing at it, pressing his lips to Danny’s forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “They didn’t l-leave him, Danny. They’re n-not gone.”

“What…?” Danny felt a thin tendril of something like hope.

“I have someone who tells me y-y-your mother’s moves before she m-makes them,” Nate said, pitched low so they wouldn’t be overheard by any of the guards still stationed in and around the house. “She told me Corrine was c-c-coming, and I guessed wh-why.”

“So when you said-”

“I had w-w-warning,” Nate said, catching Danny’s eyes again. “I told the t-t-team to leave and sent th-them to a house only I kn-know about.”

“But, but without Isaac, they-”

“Listen to me, D-Danny, love. Let me finish.” Nate rubbed a thumb gently along Danny’s cheek and down to his jaw. The redhead closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “Please?”

“Okay, Nate.” Danny sighed, his breathing finally starting to calm.

“The t-t-team is hiding at a house right outside our territory, I’m going to c-c-call them now that I’ve verified Isaac will b-be…” Nate swallowed, wincing slightly. A hint of the cold, shining anger that lived in him found its way back into his face. “... largely unharmed. I’m talking to my p-people. And at the p-party tomorrow, we’re going to g-g-get Isaac back to th-them.” Nate kissed Danny’s forehead again. “No one else, D-Danny. Ever. No one has to b-b-be what you were, if I’m around.”

“He thinks I want him to b-be a whore,” Danny whispered. “That, that I didn’t like him, he thinks I don't care about him and I just wanted to _ fuck _ him, like I was, like they did to me-”

“I know. But t-t-tomorrow, we’ll show him that you care. He’ll forgive y-you, he’s… he’s sweet, Danny. He’ll f-forgive you, I’m sure of it. We’ll g-g-get him out of there.”

Danny looked up into the green eyes he loved, and Nate kissed his forehead, one hand resting warm against the side of Danny’s face. His own ran tears and Nate’s image blurred and then focused when he blinked, blurred again.

“What if-… what if we can’t?”

Nate shook his head, and smiled. “We can. And we w-w-will. I l-love you, Danny.” He slid his arms around Danny’s neck and pulled him close, and felt the thinner man move against him, pressed to his warmth. 

Danny closed his eyes, and breathed in Nate’s smell - a hint of metal and cedar underneath something else, something supremely and perfectly  _ Nate.  _ “I love you. Ever since… ever since the first year, I love you.”

“I need you to t-t-trust me. We’ll s-save him. I promise.”


	12. Trust

Sam hadn’t stopped crying since they fled the summer house.

They were curled up on the couch in Nate’s safehouse, completely inconsolable. Tori’s fingers were stroking through their hair as their tears soaked into the fabric. She murmured soothingly to them, holding back her own tears as she did.

“We _left_ him,” they sobbed. “We _left_ him there, how is he going to feel when he finds out we heard someone was coming and _left_ …”

“Shh,” soothed Tori. “He’ll understand. He’ll understand that if we hadn’t left, we’d all be –” Her voice choked off.

“But we _left him!”_ they wailed. “We could have stayed, we could have… done _something,_ we could have fought them…”

“And we’d be killed, honey.” Tori’s fingers kept moving through their hair. “We’d have tried to fight the Michaelsons on their own turf and we’d have been killed.”

“They’re going to _torture him!”_ Sam’s voice was quickly becoming a scream. “They’re syndicate, Danny and Ryan are different but… Nate wouldn’t have gotten us out if he hadn’t… _known_ … They’re going to hurt him…”

Vera was pacing, biting her nails down to the quick. She squeezed her eyes shut at the words. “They’re not going to torture him,” she said firmly.

Sam hiccoughed. “You don’t know that!” they whimpered, and buried their face against Tori’s thigh. “They’re going to hurt him, they _know_ he protects us, they _know_ he knows our safehouses and friends…”

“They’re not going to hurt him,” she said, more quietly. “Okay? They’re not.”

“How do you know?” Finn looked over at her from where they were seated at the kitchen table, their head in their hands. Their face was wet with tears, too. “How do you know they won’t hurt him?”

Vera bit her lip. She thought about how Isaac had looked the first morning they were there, cheeks flushed red, a sort of… preoccupied look in his eyes. Not haunted, like he sometimes was. Happy. She thought about how the boy Danny had looked at him, with furtive smiles and downcast eyes, how their hands had rested on each other with such care. How they laughed together. How Isaac didn’t flinch when Danny was close. She smiled softly. “You saw how they were together.”

Gavin bit his lip and looked away.

“We should never have come,” Sam moaned. “We shouldn’t have come here, we’ve lost _Isaac!”_ They buried their face in their hands.

Vera cast a glance at Gray. They were in the kitchen, leaning against a counter. Their face had been drawn with pain ever since Nate had come to them and said, “leave your things. Pack your family up and go.” Her eyes didn’t linger on them. She knew well enough that they felt terrible that they had made the decision to come here. That they had let Isaac fall into syndicate hands. _But if we hadn’t gone, the Stormbecks would probably have us now. It was the right decision. It was the decision I would have made._

Vera wandered to the couch and knelt in front of Sam. She smoothed her fingers through their hair and they whimpered. They lifted their head and looked at her with tears in their eyes. “He’s being held again,” they whispered. “I know what that will… _do_ to him…” Vera glanced at Gavin as he flinched behind the couch. She pressed her lips together.

“Nate’s going to get him out,” she murmured, and stroked their hair. “He’s going to do it. Then we’ll all be together again and we can keep moving.”

“We’re putting an awful lot of faith in that asshole,” Gavin spat. “I don’t trust him. He’d do anything to Isaac to keep that fucking…” He swallowed hard and grimaced. “If Daniel _Michaelson_ could be convinced he needed to hurt Isaac, Nate would do it in a heartbeat. So why are we trusting _hi—”_

“We’re not trusting _him,”_ Vera snapped. “We’re trusting _me,_ and _my_ instincts. Nate will come through. He’ll bring Isaac. I know he will.”

“What the _hell_ do you know about what he’s going to do?” Gavin said miserably, like a petulant child. “He spent more time in his room with Isaac and that syndicate _prick_ than he did with anyone else.”

Vera took a deep breath. Let it out. Felt Tori go very still in front of her.

Vera stood and carefully made her way across the room to Gavin. He quailed under her glare. They were the same height, but she seemed to tower over him, baring her teeth and backing him into a corner like an angry snake. She brought in a slow breath that hissed through her nostrils and wet her lips.

“Nate Vandrum was tortured for _years._ I can guarantee he has scars that look _exactly_ like mine. And when those fucking monsters who kept him hurt the one he loves, he burned them to the _fucking ground.”_ Gavin swallowed, his eyes wide and fixed on Vera. “I know more about who he is than you _ever_ want to find out.”

There was a strange look on Gavin’s face that Vera couldn’t place. He looked… desperate. Hurt. Like he was being torn apart. She didn’t understand why.

“Forgive me for worrying about who we choose to place our faith in,” he mumbled. “I just want him back.”

“Not as much as I do,” Vera hissed. A strange look crossed his features and she turned her back on him.

The phone rang.

Everyone jumped. Vera looked over at Gray, still leaning on the counter. Their eyes were faraway, their forehead still wrinkled in worry. Vera took a step towards the phone. Gray gave a small nod, their eyes never focusing fully on her. She swallowed and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” There was an edge to Nate’s voice that made Vera go still.

She felt the burn of tears in her throat already. _Keep your shit together for him. He would do it for you. Keep it together for Isaac._ She didn’t speak. She knew her voice would shake if she did.

There was a deep breath over the line. “Look… I kn-know you have no reason to trust me. I know you don’t.”

“I do trust you.” Vera pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.

“I’m… grateful, f-for that.” A pause. “I’m calling in every f-favor I have to get Isaac out. I’m g-g-going to try to have him to you between midnight and 0200. I’m doing m-my best.”

His stutter was better. _He’s focused. Just like I get._ “Thank you.”

“He won’t be st-stuck as a p-plaything. I won’t l-let it happen. I won’t let hi-hi- _anyone_ be treated like Danny w-was. I p-promise.”

The world lurched around Vera and she had to grab the counter to stay upright. There was a pause at the end of the line. _“…what?”_ she whispered.

Another pause. Longer.

“Did they hurt him?” Tears sprung to Vera’s eyes. She noticed everyone sitting up and looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

“N-no. But it was… Danny… it w-was the only—… Corrine would have…”

The room was spinning. “How…”

“I-I’m going to fix th-this. I’m g-going to get him out. Th-then you and your t-team n-need to b-be ready to drive w-west. There’s a th-thin band of territory that neither th-the Michaelsons nor th-the Cor-ordovas patrol. Follow it t-to Cedar S-Springs and the 35 will take y-you out from th-there.”

“But –”

“I might n-not have t-time to tell you when I arrive w-with him.”

She clenched her jaw. “…is he…”

There was a heavy silence. “…he thinks we b-betrayed him. But he knows _y-you_ didn’t.”

Vera blinked tears from her eyes. She took a steadying breath. “Bring him back to us.”

“I will.” No stutter. “I’m going to get him out. I swear to you, I will d-do everything in my power. He will not end up like Danny.”

Vera’s throat tightened. “Bring him back to us. Be safe.”

“I will.” The line went dead.

She stood at the counter, stunned. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Is he okay?” Sam asked, terrified.

“They, um.” She squeezed one hand into a fist. Let it go. “Danny claimed him.”

_“What?!”_ Gavin’s voice shot across the room.

“Um.” She struggled to steady her voice. “Corrine Michaelson was going to kill him. Danny claimed him. Nate’s still going to get him out.”

“That scarred-up son of a bitch _claimed him?”_ Gavin shrieked. “I’m going to kill him, I’m going to _fucking_ kill him.”

Vera’s head snapped up. “You’re on dangerous _fucking_ ground, Stormbeck,” she hissed. He froze at her use of his last name.

Gray appeared at her shoulder. “Nate’s going to get him out?”

“Yes,” she forced through her teeth, eyes still blazing and fixed on Gavin. “Between midnight and two this morning. We need to be ready.”

Sam was sitting up on the couch with tears still streaming down their face. “But we’ll get him back?”

Vera mindlessly touched the scars at her throat. “We’ll get him back. Or the Michaelsons are going to figure out Nate isn’t the only one who can burn a _fucking_ house to the ground.”


	13. Branding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Contains branding/burning, frank threats of/discussion about torture and noncon
> 
> Corrine Michaelson takes her son's new plaything home to the Michaelson estate to be made perfect for Danny's birthday.

By the time they arrived at the vast, palatial mansion set on a hill that comprised the Michaelson family's main estate, Corrine was relieved to see that Isaac had stopped being a bawling little limp noodle and walked on his own between a pair of armed escorts.

Those pretty eyes were still terrified, but she could sense as his heart finally began to slow and understood it for what it was - he was slipping into numbness.

For now. 

It wouldn't last. 

"Welcome to my home," Corrine said, somewhat carelessly, gesturing ahead as Isaac was led towards the huge wooden front door.

Corrine and Patrick had built the house piece by piece long before they were Syndicate, back before the takeover. They had different names, then. It wasn’t overly designed like so many of the younger Syndicate homes, and was instead a sprawling series of new floors or wings added as Corrine decided she needed or wanted them. 

“Wh-where-... uh, will I…" Daniel’s gorgeous new plaything licked his lips, clearing his throat. The tears were still in his voice, but the car ride from the summer home to here seemed to have given him time to cry them all out while he was locked in the trunk.

Now, he looked beautifully resigned, more than anything. Which suited Corrine Michaelson’s purposes just fine.

“Yes? You may speak.”

Isaac flushed and his eyes jerked back to the ground, wincing.

Ah, so that hit on a sore spot, did it?

Corrine wondered if this little broken toy had been forced to ask permission to speak before. She'd had one like that, once. Learned to press the side of his face against her with big, pretty doe eyes…

Corrine paused. She rather missed that man, now that she remembered him. 

"Where w-will I… is this…." His voice seemed to fail him and Isaac was silent again as they stepped into the grand foyer. A spiral double staircase wound up to the second floor, and the first floor was obviously designed for entertaining. Large rooms full of ample seating, fireplaces for winter, and hooks littered throughout the house in ceilings and walls - unobtrusive. Daniel's little toy probably wouldn't notice.

He would learn about those later.

"Will you be living here?" Corrine suggested, and the toy nodded, crossing his arms in front of himself uncertainly. "No. As much as my husband and myself could make  _ lovely  _ use of your body-"

The man shuddered, unable to stop a sound like a whine as he exhaled all at once.

"-you do not belong to me. My son chooses to live elsewhere. You will stay with him."

There might have been a hint of relief, in the man’s face - replaced just as quickly with a whole new flush of shame as he  _ realized  _ he was relieved by such small mercies. She crooked her fingers and the escorts on either side of Isaac pushed him forward. He stumbled at first, nearly falling onto his hands and knees, and Corrine fought back a laugh. 

Lovely.

They dragged him back to his feet, towards the staircase, Corrine walking ahead of them with a slight click of her heels. 

His breathing began to change again as they headed up the stairs and he was further and further from the door. "You need to understand," Corrine said flatly. "I have no use for tears. I have no use for  _ you.  _ You live because you have  _ precisely one use  _ for Daniel and none for those who left you behind _." _

A broken sob, behind her. Corrine did not look back - but she smiled, nonetheless. 

"You will live with my son. You will  _ attend his needs _ , however he chooses to use you. You will keep yourself in good physical condition for him - physically fit, hair cut to his liking. You will dress in what you are provided and if you are provided nothing, that is what you will wear."

"Oh, fuck," Isaac whispered. "I… I won't."

Corrine, generous to a fault, decided to ignore that. It hardly counted as defiance.

“My son has… quirks, after what he has survived. You will no doubt find him the best option available to you. You should strive to  _ please him  _ in every way, if you want to stay out of my basement."

"Y-your-"

One of the guards shoved Isaac again, and Corrine listened to him fall and catch himself hard on his elbows halfway up the stairs. She paused - minutely - and then continued walking as the guards picked him up by his arms to keep him moving.

"My basement. I trust Nate's assessment but - as they say - trust and verify. I believe him, that you have no useful Intel. I will verify that, if my son finds you inadequate. You have been in  _ basements  _ before, I imagine. Or rooms that served the same purpose my basement serves for me."

A long silence. The sound of another  _ thump.  _ Then, shaking, the man's voice again, the sounds of his attempts to move faster, to stay ahead of the guards shoving him. "Y-yes," Isaac said hoarsely. 

"Good. If you  _ please  _ my son-" She honestly only said it that way just to  _ hear  _ the little despairing noise he made, that time. "-then you have nothing to fear. So I suggest you put your only value to good use." 

She walked back across the landing, knowing he would follow - he had no choice and there was nowhere to run. He walked like a man on his way to a gallows - a heavy step, only as fast as he was forced to go. 

"My son's twenty-eighth birthday is tomorrow. We are throwing a rather… massive party, in which members of my Syndicate will be introduced to you. You will be polite. You will be courteous."

He was silent, now, as they walked down a hallway. Dark wood floors and deep, warmly painted red walls. Frames hung at regular intervals, a mix of artwork and photos. 

"This is my family home," Corrine said, her voice softening slightly. "My boys both grew up here. Well, Daniel was five when we brought him home - his mother was…" Her voice trailed away. "Well. Not, perhaps, as protected from harm as she should have been. I should have noticed sooner. Here." She stopped before a spot on the wall that held a gallery of smaller photographs, carefully arranged. "Guards. My son's property will look."

Isaac was shoved up next to her, his face red, but he made no argument. His eyes ran, anguished and half-empty, over the photos as Corrine gestured and narrated each one. 

"This is Danny's first day-" She pointed to a photo of a redheaded little boy with a backpack nearly as large as he was. Wide blue eyes were immediately recognizable, as were the freckles that seemed to cover every inch of skin. 

"Here, you have them when they were tutored - we brought in the best private teachers." Danny and Ryan, arms around each other, sitting at a table with books and papered strewn in front. They both had the awkward, gangly, elbows-and-knees look of very young men. 

"Here, Daniel on his first assignment with Patrick-" Daniel, clearly an adult but a younger one, rolling his eyes in the picture. He wore the gun at his hip naturally, and holds another. "This was shortly before he was taken."

Then, she paused. "And here is a few months ago."

The final photo was of Danny sitting at a table, talking to someone out of frame. The scars seem redder, deeper than they look now. There is a yawning emptiness, a darkness in his eyes, all too plainly visible. Nate sat beside him, a hand on his back. Nate's face was cold.

Isaac made a soft sound, next to her, and Corrine turned to look at him. He was staring at the final photo - Daniel recounting some details from one of the  _ parties  _ he had been forced to attend, so that Nate and the others could locate the hosts and deal with them directly. 

Isaac's eyes were locked on the vulnerability - the hint of old fear and the deep  _ wounds -  _ so freely written across her eldest son's face. She felt Isaac's heart rate change, a shift through the blood that rushed under the surface. 

A man being shown a funhouse mirror and seeing his own face covered in blood.

"My boy has made great strides in recovery. You are one of those strides. He should have wanted someone like  _ you  _ for himself long ago."

Isaac's head dropped and his shoulders shook, hands curling into fists. Rush of adrenaline, no doubt a small one as he'd been cycling through fight or freeze responses since he walked in through the door with Daniel. 

She watched with curiosity, wondering if he really would do something that  _ stupid. _

He didn't.

He only nodded, tense as a bowstring about to snap, and kept his eyes on the floor. Corrine had expected more  _ fight,  _ but it was more clear than ever that this pretty toy had already been played with before, and broken by careless hands. That he was so… docile… suggested he not only knew the odds were against him, but had once been held long enough to be grateful simply to walk unrestrained.

Escorted, but unrestrained.

"You will sleep here, tonight," Corrine said, opening a door to show a spacious bedroom with a lovely queen-sized bed, side tables, tasteful decor… and barred windows.

Isaac swallowed, staring inside. "Why do you-"

"You are not the first plaything to belong to a Michaelson. You won't be the last. Go."

He was shoved and stumbled forwards into the room, and she watched him take in details he had missed, at first. 

The four-poster bed had hooks installed at the top and rings around each wooden corner. There were other hooks in different places, at varying heights, along the wall. The chaise lounge that nestled against the footboard of the bed was set slightly low and was built to be wide enough to lay comfortably on one's back. 

Corrine watched the blood rush to his face, as he took it all in, and felt her mouth begin to water. She rather wanted a steak, suddenly. Rare, bloody enough that it was one step from mooing.

"My husband normally makes use of this room," She said, letting  _ that  _ sink in, as well. "But it's only for one night, hm? You'll be fine."

"I-I… is, will D-Danny-" The plaything's voice was shaking, and she saw fresh tears welling up in his pretty eyes. "B-be here-"

"No, you'll be alone tonight. You’re not quite  _ ready,  _ I don’t think, to show appropriate  _ gratitude. _ " Corrine smiled. 

She snapped her fingers and one of the guards stepped forward, taking Isaac by the arm to lead him over to the chaise lounge. He stumbled over there, flinching away from the guard's touch. When the guard pointed down, Isaac sat - less like sitting and more like simply collapsing backwards until he hit the soft fabric, clenching his fingers into it, digging fingernails into the soft red cushion.

"Wait. If, if I'm-" He swallowed down revulsion - written plain as day across his face, as the tears began once more to fall. "If, I'm D-Danny's p-... his, if I'm…" He gasped in breath, curling over himself. 

“Take your time,” Corrine said, impatient voice giving the lie to her words. She slipped the heavy ring off her finger and handed it to one of the guards, who nodded and stepped aside, pulling his cigarette lighter out. Isaac was still staring at the rug under his feet. 

“W-Will I be… will he… will he put-”

“A collar on you?”

Isaac nodded, closing his eyes, miserably. Corrine sighed, flicking her eyes over at the guard, currently holding the heavy relief of her family’s crest over his lit lighter, heating it up. Unwilling to wait the amount of time it would actually take, Corrine concentrated, pulling the threads of the world around her a bit closer. Bouncing molecules off of each other, creating friction and increasing the heat around the flame. The guard hissed, softly, as the gentle warmth he had been able to feel on his fingers was suddenly uncomfortably hot. 

“No, plaything. He won’t. Daniel wore a collar for a very long time - and before they gave him the collar, they cut his neck again and again with barbed wire until he might as well. Understand that people like  _ you  _ are who hurt my son.”

Isaac gasped, raising his eyes to look at her again. “What? I, I would never-”

“Anti-Syndicate fools,” Corrine said evenly. “Who piss off the people who hold rightful power and then turn on our children. People like  _ you  _ abducted my son. People like  _ your merry band  _ tied him down and cut him apart. They beat him. They kept him starving and scared. They held him in dark rooms and they  _ sold him  _ to the highest bidder. Because he was Syndicate.”

“We would never do that,” Isaac insisted, some flicker of defiance again. “We would  _ never-” _

“Did you ever hear rumors, Isaac Moore?” Corrine asked softly, too softly. A snake’s hiss before a strike, slithering through the grass. “Did you ever hear about the parties, where you could take it out on some Syndicate son who met a bad end? Couple hundred dollars for an hour alone, and the only rule is that he has to survive it?”

“No!” Isaac all but yelled, and then went quiet. “I, I mean… no, I don’t  _ think…”  _ His voice trailed, uncertain. He slowly looked back down at the floor. “If I had, had heard about something like that, I wouldn’t have-”

“You wouldn’t have attended, maybe. You’re soft. Sweet. Inherently  _ good,  _ and it’s goddamn sickening. But you’d have ignored it, set yourself to forget you ever heard, and left  _ my son to suffer.  _ Nothing you can do, after all. No way out for the poor little bastard, huh? Might as well resign himself to being the party favor, passed around like a whore, like-... well. Like you.”

She felt her eyes burn, and closed them, taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

“You would have done nothing, just like everyone else.”

“I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t leave anyone to suffer like that,” Isaac said, but she could see him wracking his brain, trying desperately to remember if maybe he had heard rumors about parties, and had simply dismissed them out of hand. She had met enough anti-Syndicate groups, since, who had. Who hadn’t believed anyone would hold someone like that, for that purpose, on their side.

As though there weren’t enough viciousness, in mortal men, to wrap around the world a hundred times.

“No,” Isaac said softly. “I never… I never heard anything like that. I know I didn’t… I wouldn’t have just, just…”

“Hm. Maybe not. My son was a pinata, he was burned and cut and whipped and  _ raped  _ in effigy. Again and again and again. Until he burst open, until he broke, until nothing was left. Until we brought him home a man who answered to a dog’s name. Until we brought home a man with  _ their initials carved on the back of his neck,  _ who can’t hold a gun or even touch one.”

“H-He touched the gun you h-had, in the house-”

“To stop me from killing you.” The plaything had a point, though. Corrine hadn’t considered that. Daniel had not hesitated when he put his hand on the barrel of the gun and pushed it away from Isaac’s head. “I suppose he must truly like you.”

Isaac let out a sound somewhere between a cynical laugh and a broken sob.

“Oh, don’t be so put out. You won’t do any better in life than this. Did you enjoy it, Isaac, fucking my son and his partner?”

Isaac turned bright red, closing his eyes so tightly she could see every muscle in his face tense. He swallowed, hard, and slowly nodded.

At least he didn’t bother trying to ignore the questions, and didn’t seem inclined to lie. That at least was something. 

“Good. Daniel will no doubt be careful and kind to you. More than you deserve. Although… you are not responsible for what happened to my son. I understand that, I do.” The guard was ready, and nodded at her as the color of her ring began to change, the metal shifting to a deep reddish color that Corrine had always loved to see. She signaled to the other guard, who stepped forwards with half a smile already on his face. He grabbed Isaac off the chaise and shoved him to his knees on the floor, crouching behind him to wrap an arm across his shoulders, forcing his arms down by his sides.

“W-wait, wait! Wait, wh-what’s-...” Isaac struggled, but weakly - Corrine could still see that he was fighting some deep internal conditioning that told him to simply give up and let it, whatever it was, happen to him. “Wait! I never hurt him! I w-wouldn’t, I wouldn’t-”

“No, you won’t. Ever.” The guard wrenched Isaac’s head to the side, exposing his lovely neck, the veins standing out as he began to pant in fear, his hands going up to grip at the man’s arm and try to pull himself free. “Because you will live the rest of your life as docile domestic  _ property.  _ Don’t fight, Isaac.” 

“Pl-please,” Isaac said, his voice cracking, thrashing with panic in the arms of a man who held him almost entirely still, fingers twisted hard into his hair to keep his head forced to the side, the whites showing around his eyes. “Please no, please, wh-whatever, whatever you’re going to d-d-do, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be-... I’ll be good for Danny, I’ll be-”

“I know you will.” Corrine didn’t bother to pitch her voice soothing. She simply took the ring from the guard with the lighter, leaned down, and forced the red-hot metal with her family crest on it against Isaac’s neck, just below his ear.

The sound he made, and the picture he painted with every muscle taut, back arched, eyes wide and bulging, was one of excruciating beauty.

A wild shriek of pain and panic, fear and agony, that came not so much from his lungs as from the  _ core  _ of him, and Corrine pressed harder and harder while the guard held him so perfectly still she didn’t worry about the lines being blurred at all. 

His screaming was wordless, and it rang on and on and on through the room, seemingly endless, stretched out in time.

Finally Corrine pulled back and away, and Isaac went limp, hands dropping to his sides, only still on his knees because of the guard holding him up. She tilted her head, looking -  _ M,  _ surrounded by vines, perfectly legible. Essentially permanent.

“There we go,” She said softly. “Can you hear me, Isaac?”

Tears rolled down his face and he managed a nod, then winced and groaned as even that much hurt the brand she had seared into him.

“Good. If you try to leave, that brand will mark you. Anyone in our territory who sees you will bring you home to Daniel, to me. Please trust that you do  _ not  _ want to run and be brought back to  _ me.”  _ She reached up to run a hand back through his sweaty hair, and Isaac shuddered and whined in his throat, like an animal. Like a dog.

People like Isaac - or not like him, but who acted against the interests of the Syndicate and were therefore close enough - had once forced her son to sound like that, with a muzzle whose markings still remained on him. 

“You are Michaelson property now. You live as long as my son wishes for you to live. You will  _ fuck him  _ until he is done with you, and you had best be  _ very good at it _ . That is your life, it has narrowed to this. The sooner you accept that, the more content you will be in your new existence.” She stood back up. “There is a toothbrush in the attached bath for you, and toothpaste. There is a cup to drink water from.” She flicked her eyes up at the guards. “Strip him.”

“N-no-... please, let me keep, at least, let me-” But he was too weak from pain, and she watched as the guards manhandled him like a sick child, yanking his shirt off over his head and his pants off of him, shoes and socks, until he was curled up on the floor with his back to the chaise, shuddering, trying to guard his vulnerability, his nakedness.

“Your clothing will be destroyed, you don’t need it any longer. I will come for you when it’s time to prepare for the party. You will be fed, before then. You will not leave this room until it’s time to dress.” The guards stepped away, but her son’s new toy did not uncurl from his spot, didn’t even try. He just cried, and Corrine sighed at the beauty of the tears.

Daniel would not appreciate them, but that was fine. This wasn’t about teaching him appreciation, only to take the first few steps into who he had been meant to be.

“I love my son, Isaac,” Corrine said, almost gently. “I love him very much. He suffered immensely because we adopted him. He  _ suffered  _ for his name, the name we gave him when he was so young… he couldn’t have known this would happen. None of us knew. And I… I will never let it happen again, not to my child, to my-... I love Daniel, he is as much my baby as Ryan, even if he didn’t begin that way… and he wants you. So spend the night considering how you can best show your  _ gratitude  _ when he  _ unwraps you  _ tomorrow.”

Corrine turned and walked away, the guards falling into step behind her. She stepped outside, and swallowed against the core of warmth that suffused her, her deep love for both her children. The door closed and locked, the crying man still on the floor, curled up and naked, one hand up as though he would cover the brand but not daring to so much as brush the angry red skin. 

“I failed my son once,” Corrine said softly, to herself. The guards pretended they could not hear her. “I will not fail him again.” She stood there, stilled for a moment, lost in her memories of the shy, nervous five year old she’d brought into her home as a way to distract the anti-Syndicate fools from sweet Ryan… and the grown man who had fulfilled that role all too well.

Broken and beaten, raped and destroyed, brainwashed and bashed in and held in dark room after dark room. Only dragged out into the light so they could call him by other Syndicate names as they hurt him. 

She closed one hand slowly into a fist, and just as slowly - consciously - relaxed it.

Daniel, used by the kind of people who fought the Syndicates, their pretty effigy to burn. She had failed to value him until it was too late, failed to keep him safe. She would not make that mistake, ever again. Isaac had of course not been one of those who hurt him. But Daniel taking him as a plaything, using him the way Daniel had been used, might be a way to turn that effigy around, and make someone else stand in for those who had hurt him.

She couldn’t imagine any other reason, really, that Daniel would want the pretty thing so badly.

“What Daniel wants, he will have. Have a tux altered to the exact specifications I will give you. My baby is going to receive a perfectly obedient gift at his party tomorrow night, and I know  _ exactly  _ what to do to ensure Isaac is sufficiently  _ appreciative  _ of my son’s attention.”

The guards nodded.

God, she needed that steak. The smell of burning skin had lit a fire in her veins that could not be put out without blood. 

Corrine headed for the kitchen. 


	14. Unwrapping

“If you  _ hurt him,  _ I swear to God, Mom-”

“He’s fine.” Corrine waved one hand dismissively as she met a furious Danny in the driveway. She was already dressed for the party in a short black cocktail dress and a triple-strand of pearls resting lightly against her dark skin, black heels that she walked in with perfect grace. She looked every inch the pure power of the Michaelson group she was. “Oh, you look lovely, Daniel. You and your plaything will complement each other so  _ well.” _

Danny shifted, uncomfortable in his Syndicate suit. This one was new, and tailored to adapt to the weight he'd never regained after he came back, but part of him always felt the collar when he had to wear his suits now. Abraham and Ashley had made him wear the one he was abducted in to the parties, so that he’d look more like what he was, until someone paid extra to cut it off him while he was tied to the floor in front of all the guests cheering and screaming and he was bleeding and-

_ Stop. Focus on Isaac. You have to see Isaac, have to make sure he’s okay. He has to be okay. _

“Mom hasn’t done anything more than get your new friend ready for the party,” Patrick said, standing beside Corrine in his own tux, salt-and-pepper hair cut close to his scalp. He leaned in to kiss Danny’s cheeks, one by one, and Danny met the kisses absently, his eyes still on his mother. “I promise.”

Patrick’s voice was low and melodic, with the same charming singsong quality that Ryan had. He and Ryan were the spitting image of each other, from the strong jaw to the sparkling amber eyes to the black curls - although Patrick’s had plenty of gray in this particular iteration of his appearance, and more than a few distinguished wrinkles besides. 

“He’s got to be terrified,” Danny said, his stomach twisted in awful knots. He hadn’t been able to eat since he’d thrown up all over the floor, feeling the collar around his neck all over again after watching his mother order Isaac  _ dragged away.  _ Nate had fed him broth; it was the only thing he could keep down. His nerves were strung so tightly, singing with constant panic that he damped down through sheer willpower. “You could have let him stay with Nate and I last night, he-... he was probably so scared you’d, you’d kill him or something, Mom-”

“Why ever would he think I would do that?” Corrine raised an eyebrow, and when Danny just stared at her, she laughed - a soft, warm sound. “Oh, because I put a gun to his head. Honestly, Daniel. He’s fine. Mrs. Verona fed him a lovely charcuterie with cheese and fruit for dinner, plus plenty of wine. He was reluctant at first, but…” Corrine shrugged carelessly. “He came around, eventually.”

"... Did you get Isaac  _ drunk,  _ Mom?" Danny asked, blinking rapidly, trying to keep himself from getting angry and upset, fighting back the bite in his words.

Abraham got him drunk all the time. He was so fucking miserable and in so much pain, it was easy to just open his mouth and let it burn down his throat, lap bourbon from bowls they put on the floor while they laughed and said  _ you like that, puppy?  _ and then said he had to earn it-

_ Stop. This isn't about you. This is about Isaac. Nate has a plan. You can do this, Nate has a plan. Just pretend you want this, like you said. Just pretend you want him as a plaything.  _

_ Act like Abraham used to. You can do this. You can be like them to get him out. You can do this. _

"Oh, hardly. He needed to loosen up, anyway." Corrine held her hand out to Nate as he walked up, wearing his own deep green suit, and he kissed the Michaelson family crest on the heavy ring she wore. "Any news, Nate?"

Nate nodded, straightening up and smoothing his suit jacket with his good hand. "Yes, ma'am. I m-m-may need to skip out early if m-my lead pans out. We have some r-reports - nothing c-c-conc-... Conc-... nothing that's a sure th-thing, but…"

"Of course. Go as you need to. I want them back." Corrine smiled, licking at her thumb and reaching up to wipe at Danny's cheek. 

"I'm  _ twenty-seven,  _ Mom, quit it," Danny said, batting her hand away, stepping back uncomfortably. 

"You're twenty-eight, as of today, sweet boy. Happy birthday, Daniel." She smiled warmly, affectionately, and Danny managed a small smile in response despite the nerves still tap-dancing all over his skin. "Would you like to see your new boy? Ryan has been overseeing his final prep for tonight."

The sun was starting to set, lighting everything the peculiarly beautiful golden tinge that made the house seem faintly laced with magic. Danny used to feel comfortable here, at home.

He wondered if Isaac had thought the house was beautiful… or just hellish. Maybe they'd be alone long enough for him to tell Isaac about Nate's plan, to ask…

"Yes, Mom. I want to see him. I've…" Danny hesitated, trying to think of how Abraham would say it if he were here. He forced his voice to sound stronger, more certain, even as he felt ghostly cold fingers card through his hair, and had to hide his shiver. "I had him for five days. I didn't like having to go without. The whole point of having one to keep is that you don't, right?"

Corrine smiled at him - it was such a loving, proud smile, and it hurt Danny to see it. He had fought his whole life for their approval and pride, and had only received it after he had been held in captivity for four years. He had only seen this kind of pride now, now that his mother assumed he was done hiding from what he was and had begun to embrace it. 

The thought of what she expected him to be - the very thing that he had been beaten for being, the reason people paid Abraham and Ashley money for time alone with him, for chances to hurt him - made him sick.

But it was what he  _ was,  _ what he’d been born - or adopted - into. Power, and control over their territory. People who did what he said, when he said it. The assumption that he would dehumanize and break down anyone he wanted if he wanted to keep them.

They wanted him to be Syndicate - but Danny’s mind had been broken and shredded alongside his body for the crime of his Syndicate blood. He didn’t want to be what they accused him of being. He didn’t want to be what he  _ was. _

He would have given anything, in the moment he looked into his mother’s loving eyes, to have been in the car with Isaac’s team driving far away from here. 

He could live with getting  _ Isaac  _ into the car with Isaac’s team. He had to play his part, and keep it up for a while… Nate had a plan but he had to buy Nate some time.

“Then I won’t keep him waiting on you,” Corrine said gently, reaching up to pat the side of his face. Danny stilled under the unwanted touch, but Corrine had never understood or accepted that he did not like to be touched, since he came back.

Not by anyone but Nate, or… or Isaac.

Danny swallowed. 

That didn’t matter. That was ruined, too, now - like the rest of his life had been ruined and wrecked. There was no version of what he was that could not be used to break some new hope he’d had to fight so hard to feel.

Nate fell in beside him as they walked towards the house, his right hand sliding warm against Danny’s back through his suit. “It’s going to b-be okay,” Nate whispered into his ear, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to his hair. Danny closed his eyes and nodded, fighting the heat that built there, the hint of tears.

He fought the urge to whine, to collapse, to whimper  _ it won’t be okay, nothing will ever be okay again.  _ He was a grown man, and he wouldn’t be weak, not today. Not when Nate needed him to play his part.

Not when Isaac needed to get out of here.

Corrine had Isaac waiting for him in a side room off from the main living area, where the party would be. There were already servants everywhere Danny looked setting up the hors d'oeuvres table, laying out the first platters of food just so, setting up the wine fountain in the corner along with the other loose bottles the guests could choose from. Danny felt trapped in a kind of terrible deja vu - this was his childhood, parties like this. 

It had once felt natural.

Now, he kept searching for hooks in the floor that he would be tied down to.

Mrs. Verona popped her head out of the kitchen to wave hello to him and he bent himself nearly in half to reach her tiny height for the kiss to each cheek. His smile was more natural, for her, and the tiny ageless woman’s face was a starburst of cheerful wrinkles as she pinched his cheek, just lightly. “Your young man,” She said softly, “Could use a bit of reassurance, I think.”

“Couldn’t we all,” Danny whispered back, and she winked at him.

“Reassurance and fresh air. But he’ll have plenty of air later on, won’t he?”

Danny straightened, turning to look at Nate, who gave him a perfectly innocent, beatific smile in return.  _ Mrs. Verona is part of the plan? _ Nate only shrugged and kept him moving through the room, Corrine ahead of them and none the wiser. Patrick veered off to speak with some of the guards, giving them their positions along the walls.

“So many guards,” Danny whispered.

“They’re w-w-worried Isaac will r-r-run, or his t-team will try to come b-back for him,” Nate murmured, keeping a hand on his back. Danny forced a false smile, pretending he was just enjoying the gentle affection, that they were just murmuring the sorts of things to each other they might normally say, on a night like this. 

“Will they? Do they… do they know the plan?”

“Some. I t-t-told them where to w-wait, and when I’ll g-get him back to th-them. We have to hope they t-t-trust me. If they c-come on their own…” Nate frowned, picking up a little shrimp puff off the food table as they passed, ignoring the glare from one of the servants in return as he popped it into his mouth. “They’ll be slaughtered, and w-we can’t stop that.”

“They can’t be killed, or hurt,” Danny said, insistently. “We have to get them out. They trusted us, they were so nice to us, Isaac-” His voice broke, his whisper cracking apart, and he swallowed back the guilt that might eat him alive. “Isaac trusted me.”

“I know. I’m s-s-sorry it happened this w-way. But maybe w-we can make it up to him,” Nate said gently, reaching up to push back a bit of wavy red hair. It made Danny think of Isaac, tucking a little bit of hair behind his ear before the first time they kissed-

His knees buckled, just a little, and Nate effortlessly caught him around the waist.

Corrine glanced back over her shoulder, and saw only Nate nuzzling into Danny’s neck, whispering into his ear - a soft, shy smile on Danny’s face. She smiled to see them together, with a warm maternal affection.

Her eyes flashed a brilliant purple before she turned back to walk into the other room. “He’s in here with Ryan, darling,” Corrine called, and Danny took a deep breath, lifted his chin, and walked into the formal dining room to see Isaac.

Danny came to a stop in the doorway, staring at his first view of Isaac since yesterday, as his heart… snapped. It was the only word for the sensation he felt, pulled tense until he broke at the sight of a man who had trusted him with himself and his scars and who had been betrayed in return.

Isaac looked  _ gorgeous.  _

And terrified.

He was standing with a guard on either side of him, his hair neatly combed and shining clean, hands folded in front of himself, eyes on the floor, his chin bent nearly to his collarbone. He wore a perfectly tailored suit that was so close to Danny’s, and Danny had sort of wondered what Isaac might look like all dressed up (or more accurately, how it would feel to see him dressed up and peel that clothing off him piece by piece), and now he knew. 

Ryan was standing against the wall, arms folded, with a face like a stormcloud. “Say hello,” Ryan said, his voice oddly harsh and grating, and Danny’s head jerked to the side only to see Ryan’s eyes glowing a light yellow in the dim dining room light. Ryan wasn’t enjoying this - he was  _ angry  _ about it. “Danny, fair warning, you’re not going to like-”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Nate standing next to him, and Danny turned to look at Isaac again. He’d looked up, to meet Danny’s eyes with him, and his mouth - God, that mouth - was stretched in a tremulous, frightened smile.

There was a thick band of black around his neck, and when Danny’s mind allowed him to understand what he saw, he felt the collar wrap around his own neck, too, the constriction that dug into his skin and rubbed it raw and bloody over and over until the scars made the skin too rough to break so easily again. 

Then he saw the reddened fresh brand - the  _ M  _ with its intertwining vines - on the side of Isaac’s neck. 

“Oh,” Danny said softly. Fury came instantly, a fire he couldn’t even vocalize around, burning him too deeply to speak the words. He barely managed a whisper. “Mom… y-you, you put… you said you, you wouldn’t-”

“I know, darling, and I’m sorry,” Corrine said, with a tone that suggested she absolutely wasn’t. “And it won’t be for long. But we had to ensure he would be on his  _ best behavior  _ for your birthday party, and I knew you wouldn’t want to  _ lead him.  _ Isaac has promised to be  _ very good  _ for us tonight, hasn’t he?”

She shot a look at Isaac, and Danny watched him look at her with open fear before looking back to Danny and quickly nodding. “Y-Yes, I, I can… I won’t, won’t try anything.” Isaac’s voice shook so hard his words were barely speech at all, and Danny wanted nothing more than to walk across the room and rip the fucking collar off his neck.

He settled for being able to do one of those things.

He stepped forward, feeling like he was floating on numb legs, and moved up to Isaac - who cringed away and then caught himself when Corrine’s eyes cut at him again. Danny reached up to put a hand to either side of his face, and looked into Isaac’s frightened eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, just for him.

“Y-you didn’t have to do this to me,” Isaac all but whimpered, and Danny’s heart  _ ached,  _ a nearly physical pain he could feel slowly radiating out, right to the palms and the fingertips that touched a man he would never, ever have wanted to hurt. “You didn’t have to-”

“Stop mewling,” Corrine snapped, and Isaac’s mouth shut all at once with a  _ click.  _

“Wh-why did you  _ brand him?”  _ Danny asked, and bit back the wail to turn his words into something closer to anger than the grief he felt welling up inside. With a brand, Isaac wouldn’t be safe. Everywhere he went, even if they got him out of here, everyone would know he was a Michaelson plaything. Everywhere he went, they’d think he could be tortured for Michaelson intel or sold back to them for a reward. Even with Nate's plan, it was a matter of time before Isaac was sold back to them, back into Danny's bed at best or Corrine's tortures at worst. He couldn't hide it, or forget it.

Corrine had trapped him in the lie Danny had told to save his life.

He glanced sidelong at Nate, who was looking at it,too, with that empty stillness he was so skilled at. He met Danny's gaze and gave him a small smile. "Just as l-l-lovely as y, yesterday,"

_ The plan is still going. Don't falter. Stay strong.  _ Danny knows how to read the words Nate doesn't say.

Danny shook his head, trying to say with his eyes what he couldn’t say in front of his mother, not and have any hope to keep up the charade, to get Nate the time he needed to get his plan in motion. He couldn’t say it if he wanted any chance of getting Isaac out of here. “You’re beautiful,” He said instead, and his voice stayed even, and strong.

_ Oh, puppy, you look beautiful tonight. Let’s take a ‘Before’ photo, the guys coming over  _ really  _ don’t like your fucking family. Bet you give me one hell of an ‘After’ later on, huh? Smile for the camera, Red. _

“You’re beautiful,” Danny repeated, and Isaac closed his eyes, lowering his chin again, shivering under Danny’s touch.

“Thank you,” Isaac whispered.

_ He hates me,  _ Danny thought, and felt guilt crash into him like a wave.  _ He’ll hate me now, forever. I just wanted…  _ “Take the collar off,” Danny said in a low voice, without looking away from Isaac’s face. “Take it  _ off.  _ He’s already branded, you don’t need to collar him, too!”

“Not an option,” Corrine said lightly. “He will stay in line better with it on.”

“Mom, I said take it  _ off,  _ he doesn’t need a collar to control him!” Danny let go of Isaac and turned to face down his mother, but even glaring down at her and towering over her much smaller frame, he knew he wouldn’t win this one just from the way her jaw set, ever so slightly, and her eyes lit up.

“I am the matriarch of this family, Daniel Michaelson,” Corrine said firmly, a warning edging her voice. "You are my son and you will show me the respect I am due.”

“Mom.” Danny fought to calm himself. “I… I like the suit, you, you did a good job, but I can’t… I can’t, not with him wearing that! Not with our  _ mark on him! _ ”

“I told you not to do it, Mom,” Ryan growled from the wall. He was glaring at the guards on either side of Isaac, and they shifted uncomfortably under his glowing yellow gaze. “You know he hates this shit. You  _ know _ it. Branding people is all your generation, we don’t fucking  _ brand people anymore!” _

“Don’t act like you’re any better.” Danny glared at his younger brother, usually wide blue eyes narrowed to furious slits. “You wanted to do the same fucking thing to him!”

“No, I  _ didn’t!”  _ Ryan snapped back. “I wanted to make  _ you happy _ and having him stay is one thing, but I wouldn’t have stuck my fucking ring on his neck! I’m a Michaelson just like you, but I’m not a Michaelson like _ that  _ and this fucking dog-and-pony-show pisses me off just as much!”

“Don’t say ‘dog’,” Danny whispered, feeling blood drain from his face.

Some of the anger left Ryan, and his eyes went back to their usual honeyed yellow. “I’m sorry,” Ryan said, sincerely, putting both hands up in the air. “I’m sorry, Dan. I didn’t-... I didn’t think.” He swallowed, hard. “You, you know that I wouldn’t…”

“No, I know, I just-... shit,  _ fucking hell,  _ Mom, you can’t  _ do this to him!” _ Danny spun back to his mother, who watched him evenly, with one eyebrow raised. 

“Do you want him like you said to me yesterday, or not?” Corrine asked, her voice very low. “Darling, did you  _ lie to me,  _ yesterday? I would be very disappointed with you and upset if you  _ lied  _ to me.”

“I… I didn’t. I didn’t, Mom, I definitely want him,” Danny said, swallowing hard, trying consciously to calm himself even as his hands began to shake.  _ Be Abraham, be Abraham, be Abraham.  _ “He’s fucking gorgeous, and nobody else should get to enjoy the, um, the-the sounds he makes but  _ me.” _

“Oh, fuck,” Isaac said, his face somewhere between ash-pale and greenish around the edges. “Oh, fuck  _ no-” _

“What did I tell you about  _ language,  _ Isaac?” Corrine said coldly, and Isaac flinched, jerking his eyes back to the floor. 

“S-sorry,” Isaac whispered. “I’ll be good.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “What… what  _ did _ you tell him about language? Is he… did you-...  _ punish him?!” _

“Not really. He has agreed to abide by the rules for tonight’s engagement. If he behaves for you, darling, he won’t have to wear it again. The decision is made and my decisions are final.” Corrine clapped her hands together. “If he is not acceptable exactly as he is, perhaps we will simply declare this whole thing a loss and move him to my basement-”

_ “No!”  _ Danny and Isaac shouted at the same time - one with rage and one with terror. 

“God  _ damn  _ it, Mom!” Ryan joined in. The impassive expressions on the faces of Isaac’s guards never changed, and the soft bustle of servants never ceased. This wasn’t the first Michaelson fight any of them had witnessed, and it would almost certainly not be the last. “Don’t fucking threaten to torture Danny’s new man right in front of him!”

“Right in front of Daniel, or the plaything?” Corrine asked, with a hint of a smile that suggested she thought the question  _ very  _ funny.

Ryan rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the wall. “I’ve read Danny, Mom. He wants Isaac. That’s the honest truth. Come on, give them a minute before the guests arrive.” There was a pause, and then Ryan said, “Nate, you’re with me for now.”

Nate frowned, eyes narrowing. “M-Michaelson, I’ve said it b-b-before, I don’t w-work for you-”

“For right now, you do. I need to talk to you about this tip you’ve got on the runaways.” Ryan and Nate met eyes for a second, and Danny could feel the tension in the room rising, the way the two men always sparked against each other unpleasantly whenever they interacted directly. “I want to know what information you have on them, Vandrum.”

“Not your b-b-business, Michaelson.”

More silence, and Ryan said in a tone of deadly certainty, “I am _ making _ it my business,  _ Nathaniel. _ So get your ass with me or nothing goes the way you want it to go tonight.”

“Wh-what the fuck does  _ that  _ mean?”

Ryan smirked. “I think you know what it means.” They stared at each other for a few more long, drawn-out, tense moments.

“Go on, Nate,” Corrine waved one hand dismissively, already moving back towards the doorway. “Go with Ryan. Daniel will speak with his plaything privately. Guests will be arriving soon and they really should get a bit of time together.” She smiled over her shoulder at Danny. “I know you’re angry at me for this, darling, but please… it’s your birthday. Be good to the guests. This gorgeous boy is your  _ gift.” _

“I could never ask for an… anything better,” Danny replied, mostly honestly, watching Nate's back longingly as he left walking behind Ryan with his annoyance and anger all but radiating off of him. Danny's voice was thin but he covered it, he thought, as well as he could. Fury still boiled under the surface, the temper he’d once had that Abraham and Ashley had broken and beaten and bashed out of him day by day. “Thank you… thank you, Mom. He’s a wonderful birthday present.”

“You’re very welcome, dear.” Corrine smiled. “Oh, and plaything…” Isaac slowly raised his eyes, not quite meeting hers, cringing slightly back against the dining room table. “That’s good. Learning to keep your eyes down when speaking to your betters. I want you to look right at this.” She held up a small rectangular disk with a few buttons and a dial on it, waggling it back and forth in her hands. “You will behave.”

“I will,” Isaac whispered, staring at the thing in Corrine’s hands with pure fear written across his face. “I will. I’ll behave.”

“Good. Bring your new toy out in about… oh, ten minutes or so, Daniel. The first guests should arrive right about then, and I’ll want you and the plaything in the receiving line to greet them. Everyone should get a good long look at my baby boy coming back to himself, finally, after all that’s happened. We’re a strong family, Daniel. I need you to be my strong son tonight.”

“Of course, Mom,” Danny said, nodding quickly, shifting himself minutely so he was blocking Isaac from Corrine’s direct gaze. 

“Family first, Daniel,” Corrine said firmly. “Never forget that. We are Michaelsons first.”

“Michaelsons, first,” Danny agreed, readily enough. He met his mother’s cool, appraising eyes, and kept his face calm even as the muzzle scars  _ ached,  _ phantom pains and fire that wrapped around his face and made it hard for him to force his jaw open enough to speak.

_ There is no life before- _

“Perfect. I’m sorry about the collar, darling, but it really is necessary. Just for tonight. You can take it off him before you take him home.” Corrine gave him her warmest, most loving smile, and he managed one, although thin and small, in return.

He held it until she was gone.

With the two guards still standing at Isaac’s elbows, Danny didn’t dare drop the act, or tell Isaac about the plan. That there was one, that he wouldn’t have to live this way, that Danny and Nate were going to get him out of here tonight. 

He couldn’t tell him  _ anything. _

All he could do was step up, and take Isaac’s hands in his - the other man’s fingers felt freezing cold. Danny’s fingers were rough and numbed from his years with the mercenaries, but he held Isaac’s hands slowly up, rubbing gently at them, trying to warm them. “I’m so sorry,” He whispered, lips grazing Isaac’s knuckles.

Isaac jerked, like he would try and pull away, but stopped himself, staring at Danny with wide, frightened eyes. The thick black ring around his neck made Danny feel dizzily sick, and he tried not to see it, not to look. “Please don’t do this,” Isaac said back, weakly.

“I know, I know. It’s… it’s not all night,” Danny said, pulling Isaac to him. He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t say a fucking thing to actually make him feel better. Not even a real hint. All he could do was put his arms around the other man, feel Isaac stiff and tense and frightened but apparently threatened too well by Danny’s mother to pull away. “It’s not, um, not for the whole night, Isaac. I promise. It’s… just a little while.”

_ Just a little while before I can save you.  _

_ Just a little while before we get you out of here. _

_ Nate has a plan. _

_ I wish I could tell you. _

Isaac’s head dropped slowly onto Danny’s shoulder, half-collapsed against him. He’d dropped his head like this after the third time, Danny thought, swallowing against a rush of guilt and worry. Dropped his head on Danny's shoulder but from behind him, laughing, whispering nonsense in Danny's ear until it tickled and he laughed and tried to wriggle away-

_ Stop thinking about it, she ruined it, you'll never have anyone like him ever again. No one but Nate, not ever, no one she'll see or know about. Don't even look at anyone else ever again.  _

He couldn’t come back from what his mother had done, what Isaac had heard him say, just to save him. 

“Please let me go,” Isaac said into the skin of Danny’s neck, and there was a sense of dampness - tears against his Syndicate suit. “Please, please just let me  _ go-” _

_ I’m going to. _

“I can’t,” Danny murmured into Isaac’s hair, pressing a kiss there. Isaac was shaking, and Danny rubbed at his back with one hand, staring at the wall on the other side of the room, trying to think. There was nothing he could do to warn Isaac that the guards wouldn’t pick up on. There was nothing to do but let Isaac think this was real right up until Nate gave him the signal. “By tomorrow, it’ll be better,” Danny said softly, kissing into his hair again. The guards were staring - Danny could feel their eyes, and he slid his hand up to tip Isaac’s jaw, tilting his head back up, to look right into his eyes “By tomorrow, you won’t have to wear that collar again.”

“I don’t want this, Danny. I don’t… I don’t  _ want this.  _ I don’t want to  _ be this.” _

“Ssssshhhh, I know, I know.” Danny kissed at the damp tear tracks on his cheeks, at his forehead. He tilted his head to look at the brand on Isaac’s neck, watched the other man clench his eyes shut under the scrutiny. “I’m sorry she… hurt your neck, and put that on you. I would, would never have wanted-”

“Why didn’t you  _ tell  _ me? Why didn’t you just…  _ ask?”  _ Isaac asked, pulling back just to look into Danny’s eyes. “How can you do this to me, after… after what happened to you? Why didn’t you just  _ ask _ me to stay?”

It was Danny’s turn to drop his eyes and look away. If he looked into Isaac’s eyes a single second longer, he wouldn’t be able to keep up the act, he’d just tell him and the guards would hear and it would… all be over. Corrine would drag Isaac into the basement, torture him for information, Danny couldn’t keep him safe from that… 

“Didn’t know it was, um, an option,” He muttered, and pulled back. “Come on, Isaac. Let’s go get in the line for guests.” He pulled Isaac with him, the two guards right behind them, and he kept his hand resting lightly against Isaac’s back the way that Nate would have done for him. Isaac didn’t lean in  _ or _ pull away - he walked with slow, purposeful footsteps, and kept his eyes miserably on the floor in front of him.

_ I’m going to save you,  _ Danny tried to think as loudly as he could.  _ Nate and I are going to get you out of here, and we’ll save you, and you’ll be free and safe and far away from me. _

Out loud, all he could do was lean in and say, gently, “You won’t have to stay at the party for very long.” The way Isaac turned red and closed his eyes against tears told Danny that the words weren’t reassuring at all. 


	15. Party

Isaac had never worn a suit in his life.

Now he was wearing a tux that was somehow perfectly, miraculously tailored to skim the lines of his body. Hugging his waist, framing his broad shoulders. His hair was clean. His skin smelled faintly of soap.

After Corrine’s men had dragged him to the car, he’d been driven to what he had to assume was the Michaelsons’ family estate. They had stripped him, thrown him in that horrifying bedroom overnight. In the morning they had come to him again. They had held him down and forced him to eat and drink. Deaf to Isaac’s pleas and his screams because in this place, captured, _claimed,_ it felt too much like being drowned all over again as they’d held his nose and poured water into his mouth. Then they bound his wrists, and dragged him to the bathroom with a wide, luxurious bathtub. They’d washed him, clinically, holding him in the warm water as he sobbed. _“Please don’t drown me. Please, please, no…”_ Corrine had watched with disdainful detachment. _“We’re not going to drown you, stupid boy. Stop getting water on my floor.”_

And his neck _burned_ where Corrine had claimed him. Although it wasn’t really Corrine. She’d held the brand, she’d yanked his head to the side as he screamed, but it was for Danny. Danny had claimed him. Danny owned him now. Danny had owned him from the beginning. Isaac just didn’t know it.

His suit jacket was buttoned once over a cream white shirt, the top button of the shirt undone and exposing a peek of his chest. The suit was a dark blue. _“Brings out your eyes,”_ Corrine had said as she looked him up and down to make sure he was acceptable for her son. He didn’t even know what that meant. Resting where the shirt was unbuttoned, nestled against his throat, was a collar.

A shock collar, to be more accurate. After they’d washed him, and dressed him, they’d presented him again to Daniel Michaelson’s mother. She’d buckled the collar around his neck herself, and then immediately demonstrated for him its purpose. He’d gone to the floor within a second, screaming and writhing against the sudden, mind-splitting agony that had torn him apart. Then she’d stopped, leaving him gasping and sobbing on the floor. She’d snapped two perfectly manicured fingers and her men had yanked him to his feet.

_“Keep it in mind,”_ she had hissed, inches from his face. _“If you embarrass me, try to run, try to hurt my sons…”_ She lifted the remote in her hand and he had folded. Wept. _“Please. I won’t. I promise. I’m sorry…”_ Broken. He wondered if Danny had seen it from the very beginning.

Now he was here. At this _party._ A birthday party for Danny. He didn’t even know where Danny was at the moment, and he didn’t care. He was beyond caring.

_Pain._

The world went white for a moment and he collapsed. His chest ached with the scream that was forced from his lungs, the unbearable agony of the shock. Then it was over. He slumped on the floor for a moment, pressing his face against the coolness of the hardwood. His throat worked around a sob. He scrambled to his feet, desperate not to be on the floor. Where he could be kicked. Pinned.

He scanned the crowd, searching for the guest who had the remote now. They’d been passing it around for half an hour ever since Danny had left. Every now and then someone would want to have a bit of fun and he would go down, twitching and shrieking on the floor. Then it would stop, and he’d get to his feet again.

His suit was a bit askew at this point. _This is the type of thing I’ll be wearing for the rest of my life. Just a pampered whore for the Michaelsons. That’s what they keep calling me, the guests. That’s what Daniel called me. Whore._ The fabric felt so restrictive. He couldn’t fight in this, not with any hope of winning, anyway. But it didn’t matter. He’d never have to fight again. He knew he wouldn’t be allowed to survive even the attempt.

When Danny had led him back to the house after their walk, cheeks flushed, fingers laced together, he’d felt happy. A brief, flickering moment of happiness with the trees, the sky, the boy smiling at him with scars just like his. Then, not even ten minutes later, Danny had claimed him. As a _plaything._

_How could I have been so stupid as to think I could have a love that didn’t hurt._

He felt a pinch on his ass as a particularly brave guest passed him. He whirled around, eyes blurring with furious tears at the laugh that rose up around him. A woman approached him with sparkling green eyes and lipstick that looked like blood.

“You are so _lucky,”_ she purred at him. “To be a Michaelson pet… oh, honey. There are worse things. Far, _far_ worse things.” She winked at him.

_This is what Vera was._

_But for her it was so, so much worse._

He blinked tears out of his eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to escape the press of bodies around him, the hands that kept reaching out and brushing and fondling and squeezing him. _I’ll get a bed. Will they make me stay in their bed, or will I get my own?_ He swallowed the lump in his throat. _Vera never got a bed. And Gavin never let me feel comfort. And… I don’t think Danny would want to torture me._

_I didn’t think Danny would do this, either._

Danny had _claimed him._ Had looked his mother in the eye and said, _“he’s mine.”_ Had watched him dissolve into tears after Nate told him he’d only wanted him for information. Had only begged for Isaac’s life after the guards had thrown him to his knees, after he’d realized he might lose a plaything to the gun in his mother’s hand.

_I wonder if he’s the one who warned the family to run. Maybe he warned them so he could keep me for himself._ He felt a vice crushing his heart. _At least I know they got away. At least they’re safe. At least they never have to see me like this._

“Daniel takes _such_ good care of Nate. I know he’ll take good care of you, too.”

Isaac slowly focused his eyes and realized another woman was standing in front of him, her eyes cold like some dead thing. _Danny doesn’t_ own _Nate. He loves him._ He shuddered. _I thought he felt something for me, too._

Another guest laughed cruelly. “And all you have to do is lay flat on your back.” He grinned at Isaac.

Isaac trembled. _I_ did _lay flat on my back for him. And I… it felt good. I thought… I thought it was good. That it was something…_ He pressed his lips together so they wouldn’t quiver. _When did Danny decide to keep me? When we kissed? Had he already decided when I slept with him?_

_Was that my audition?_

He couldn’t keep the sob down as it rose in his throat. It came out like a strangled cry.

He watched the guests’ mouths turn down at the sound. A man’s hand shot out and slapped him smartly across the face. “Be grateful, you miserable shit,” he snapped. “If you were mine I wouldn’t even let you out of the cellar. I’d want to keep that face all to myself.”

_Pain._

He writhed on the ground, trying to reach for the collar. His muscles locked and he keened against the inescapable anguish coursing through him.

It stopped. He heard more laughter.

As he struggled to his feet, he felt a sick twist in his gut of gratitude for Gavin.

Gavin never did _this._

Gavin never collared him. Gavin never invited people over to torment him, touch him, call him a plaything and a pet and a whore. Gavin never took him to bed, never made Isaac _trust_ him.

Gavin never ripped his heart out like this.

He’d known what going to Gavin would mean. He’d known he was handing himself over to be tortured until he was dead. He was willing to make that sacrifice for Sam. Would make it again.

But this? He thought he’d been placing his body in Danny’s hands for something else. He thought he’d been taken because he’d been wanted, because he’d been _seen,_ his body and his scars and pain, his pleasure, he thought he’d given it to Danny and Nate because they wanted it from him. That’s all he had thought they wanted.

And Nate… Nate had betrayed him, too. Nate had looked at him while Isaac was fucking his boyfriend, with Isaac’s mouth around his cock, and had called him beautiful. Had run his fingers over the scars on Isaac’s back like they were a part of him that he never had to hide.

But Danny… Danny had _been where Isaac was now._ Danny had been collared. Danny had been tortured. He’d been the pet, the _puppy._ And Danny had _done this anyway._

_I should never have believed they would want me for anything other than this. I should never have believed I could have something that felt so good that wouldn’t break me._

There was someone moving against him now, pushing him back against the wall in the middle of the living room. He squeezed his eyes shut, prayed it wasn’t someone with the remote. He smelled liquor and cologne that smelled like something dark. He opened his eyes to see another man, another guest, looming over him.

“What a good little slut,” he rasped in Isaac’s face. “The Michaelsons outdid themselves with this one.” His fingers found their way into Isaac’s mouth and pressed down against his tongue. Isaac leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes streaming. The man’s finger moved down to curl around the collar.

“Careful, Matthew,” came a voice laced with wicked laughter. “That one’s got a kick.”

_Pain._

Isaac collapsed as the man jumped away from him. He writhed on the floor for only a few seconds before he was granted a reprieve again.

_“Beth!”_ screamed the man who’d been pressed against him. “That was my _fucking_ finger, you _bitch!”_

_God, please stop touching me._

He groaned softly as he pushed himself to his feet again. _Maybe this is something I should get used to._ His eyes filled with tears again. _Maybe if I pretend to like it with him he won’t let anyone else touch me. That would be something, at least. When he comes back, I can pretend. Fake it til you make it._ He shook his head. _I don’t think it was ever supposed to mean that._

For a moment he remembered how it felt to have Nate and Danny both touching him, kissing him, pressing their hands against him like he was something precious. _At least I kind of liked the one who will be keeping me. Maybe I can make myself believe I still do. Maybe that’s how I stay sane. Just make myself believe I always wanted this._

_God, I miss my family._

He had no way of knowing if they even knew what happened. He knew they got out. He just didn’t know how. _I wonder if they know what he is. Or what he’s going to turn me into._ He stumbled away from a crowd of guests that kept reaching out with hands and words to prod at him and touch him. _I wonder if he’ll make it hurt now. Now that he’s not faking._

It had been so good. So _warm._ _What if it’s that good every time and_ doesn’t _hurt? Is that better, or worse? What does it mean if it’s always good? If I like it?_ His eyes moved unseeing over the crowd around him. _Does that mean everyone here is right about me?_ His body still remembered how it had felt. Was still a little sore in that sweet way he hadn’t felt in so long. _If this is all I’m good for, then I’m at least grateful it’s with someone who made me feel good once._

_Gavin never lied to me like this._

_At least with Danny it’s just sex._

A hand fisted in his hair and dragged his mouth against someone else’s lips.

He cried out and twisted away. Someone next to him started cackling out a laugh that was loose with alcohol.

“Careful, Liam. That’s not yours. Do you _really_ want Corrine pissed at you?”

A hot breath of laughter in his face. “For this one? Maybe. Damn, you’re delicious.”

“Please,” Isaac whimpered. “Please stop.” It was like his body had been set loose from his brain. _They’re going to do whatever they want to me. I can’t stop this. Even if I was able to fight, even if I didn’t have this damned collar on, there are too many._

“You don’t get to tell me to stop, Michaelson whore.”

Hands pushed at him, pushed him backwards until he felt the edge of the couch nudge against his thighs. Hands turned him so he was facing away from his assailant and shoved him forward. He grunted as he fell hallway over the back of the couch and knocked a woman’s drink out of her hand. It flew all over her chest and she shrieked. He felt a body against him, hands fumbling for his waistband. A strangled sob left his throat. _No. Please no. Not right here. Not like this._

_“Enough!”_ He felt the body fall away from him suddenly. He scrambled to his feet, pushing himself up from the edge of the couch and spinning around wildly to look at the person who’d just saved him. Saved him from being fucked over the couch at a Michaelson party, as a Michaelson plaything.

It was one of the guards. He had his hand out against a guest’s chest, his tux wrinkled at the treatment. “He is _Michaelson_ property.” The guard pushed the man back another step and let his hand drop from his chest.

Isaac felt a pathetic stab of gratitude. He looked at the guard, tried to catch his eye as he turned back to his post on the wall. The man refused to look at him. Refused to even turn his way.

_Pain._

He was gasping by the time they let him up again. His suit was becoming soaked through with sweat. It clung to him as he pushed himself up on his hands and knees.

“Oh, now _that’s_ a position you should get used to.”

Isaac’s face burned with shame as he staggered to his feet. His brain was buzzing with pain, a headache creeping into his awareness. His muscles ached now, from the shocks. His mind kept returning to the same refrain.

_Why did I believe I deserved something that didn’t hurt._

Another hand shot out and grabbed his ass as he stumbled towards a more empty corner of the room. He wasn’t drunk, he hadn’t had a damned drink since –

_Stop._

He just couldn’t bring himself to focus. Couldn’t bring his eyes to move around the room, looking for the person who would be staring at him with cruel lust in their eyes, their finger trembling above the remote, waiting to watch him dissolve into pain and writhe on the floor for a few moments. There were guards around the room, watching him. What did it matter? He was broken. He knew it. He wondered if they knew it, too. He wondered if they understood that he knew it was useless to run, to fight. He knew it would be suicide to hurt a guest at this party.

He couldn’t bring himself to imagine hurting Danny.

Danny had opened up something in him that he’d put away so long ago he’d forgotten it was there. Between protecting his family and caring for Sam and dodging the syndicates, he’d hidden away that secret wish inside him for… for comfort. Heat. Touch. If not love, then at least making it. Sex. Sex that wasn’t just something rushed in the back room of a safehouse because dammit, that stranger had been eyeing him for a while and he wanted it, too…

Even though Danny had betrayed him, seen his pain and held it gently, had felt his scars, tasted every inch of him and then stood over Isaac on his knees on the floor with a gun to his head and said _“he’s mine”_ … Even though Danny had broken the heart Isaac had forgotten he’d had, he couldn’t want to hurt Danny. Not after seeing what a few words from Gavin’s mouth had done to him. Not after seeing the broken boy hiding in his eyes, after seeing the man who’d been rebuilt with love from Nate, the man who’d slept with him, too.

Fucked him. That was the word he should have been using this whole time. It wasn’t making love. Wasn’t sleeping with someone. It was fucking. And it was what Isaac was now bound to do until one or both of them got tired of him and disposed of him the way Danny’s mother had been about to do before Danny claimed him.

He wished Danny had let her kill him.

_Pain._

He was grateful to be saved from that train of thought, at least. The pain in his body brought him away from those thoughts that would break him, if he lingered.

His body had been broken before. His mind, too. But this would be something different. Because Danny had taken something from him not with brute force, not at the end of a knife. Danny had just asked. And Isaac had freely given it.

_Pain._

He nearly fell against a waiter holding a tray of food. The guests laughed as someone shoved him to the side, away from the hors d’oeuvres. Laughed as he lay twisting on the ground at their feet.

He couldn’t even get up before the next one hit.

_Pain._

Ah. So they were really starting to enjoy themselves.

The pain ended and a roar of rage fell on his ears. Danny was striding towards him with a look of fury that Isaac quailed to see. The man was using every inch of his 6’2” body and he was… he was _frightening._ He was imposing. It was like the man had realized for the first time since Isaac had met him just how big a man he was. _He hid that rage from me, too._

Danny snatched the remote away from the guest who had been waving it about with glee as they’d watched Isaac convulse on the ground. _“No,”_ he snarled.

“He’s so protective of his new toy!” someone exclaimed. Everyone laughed.

Danny’s hair fell into his face as he knelt to pull Isaac up. “No,” mewled Isaac. “Please…”

“Come here.” Danny’s voice was still strained with fury. His hand closed around Isaac’s wrist and he began to drag him away from the party into the hall. It was darker here, and much less crowded. Tears rolled down Isaac’s cheeks as Danny pulled him deeper into the house.


	16. Rescue

Laughter followed he and Isaac out like physical blows against his back.

Danny’s grip on Isaac’s wrist was too tight, and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to loosen or let go. There was a scream still behind his teeth that he was fighting every second to hold back, the fury he’d felt burning inside him at the sight of Isaac writhing in pain on the floor - unfamiliar and too familiar, both at once.

Danny had never worn a shock collar, but that was only because Abraham didn’t think they were any fun. Instead, he’d been tied down before and whipped, or beaten, or cut up in front of a crowd, again and again. The laughter of the party guests sounded exactly like this. It rang in his ears, echoed after him as he pulled Isaac into a dark hallway. 

Away from the crush of guests, the temperature immediately seemed to drop by twenty degrees, and Danny hadn’t realized he was sweating until it began to chill on his skin.

“Fuck,” He muttered to himself, as he pulled Isaac behind him, walking with purpose and the shorter man was left to stumble behind. "Should've known, should've  _ known  _ when I had to go talk to, to Ryan that… I should have  _ known…" _

Isaac was breathing hard, and Danny was trying not to think about his own harsh breathing, his own whimpers, his own pleas for mercy.

Always unheeded, always ignored. The laughing crowd pressing in. Hands in his hair, on his skin, Nate trapped against the wall and forced to watch until it was over, then ordered to clean him up and lock him in the bedroom in the back of the house to wait for the first person to pay extra for an hour alone-

“Stop it, shut up,” Danny hissed to himself, and heard Isaac take in a breath just behind him. “N-Not you, Isaac, sorry, I just-... fuck,  _ fuck!  _ Shit, I just, just have to… just keep it together, Danny, come on, just a few more minutes…” 

He jammed the remote to the shock collar into the pocket of his suit jacket, trying to slow his stride so Isaac could more easily keep up with him even as his grip was still as strong as iron around the other man’s wrist. 

“Um, wh-where… where are we… going?” Isaac’s voice was a mix of breathless and choked with tears, and it grated under Danny’s skin, guilt he could hardly take. This was  _ his fault. _ He had done this to Isaac by showing interest in him, by wanting something for himself at all. “Are we… are we-...” Isaac’s voice caught, and Danny stopped, turning to look at him. 

He’d thought the red in Isaac’s cheeks was from the heat in the entertaining room, but realized with a sickening lurch that it was a flush, and not a good one. “Are we-... going to a, a-... a room?” Isaac wouldn’t look at him, misery and shame written openly across his face. “Are you... taking me to a room?”

_ Are you going to fuck me now? _

The air was cooler out here, but he couldn’t breathe it. His throat closed around the words Isaac wasn’t saying, around the suggestion he wasn’t quite making. Around the  _ assumption  _ and the reddened skin around the shock collar where Isaac had been hurt again and again because they all thought Danny wanted to use him as a  _ fuck toy,  _ that he was just like the Denners and he was going to drag Isaac upstairs and bend him over something and jam a hand down between his shoulder blades to hold him still and hiss in his ear  _ be a good puppy and you’ll get to eat tonight- _

“Oh, God, I can’t do this,” Danny whispered, letting go of Isaac to put his own hands over his face. “I can’t do this, I can’t, I told Nate I could do it but I  _ can’t…” _

He couldn’t play this part. He felt strung out and destroyed from trying to pretend to be Abraham Denner, talking about Isaac’s body like it was an object to be used and not the skin and blood and bones of a  _ good man _ being torn apart by goddamn Syndicate cruelty.

“You… you don’t have to,” Isaac said, softly. His voice was a little hoarse, and Danny wondered how badly his throat hurt from the pain that had been forced through him again and again and again. “Please, Danny, you don’t… you don’t  _ have to…” _

“I do.” Danny whispered the words, closing his eyes, taking the deepest breath he could manage through a throat that felt very nearly closed-up entirely. “Have to play the part. Have to be good, have to do it right, have to keep going or it won’t work, it…”

The sound of laughter nearby and Danny dropped his hands, glancing over his shoulder. Party guests headed their way. He swallowed, hard, his eyes roaming, but there was no good place to go and he needed to be in sight when Ryan gave the signal that it was time to go.

_ “Look, I’ll buy you until dawn,” Ryan had said, sidling up to Danny’s side when he and Nate had their heads together trying to figure out the next step. “Wait for me to signal and I’ll make sure Mom thinks you and Nate took Isaac upstairs to… to break him in, or something.” _

_ Danny had closed his eyes, briefly, at the words. _

_ “I know, Dan. But… look, I can get you the time you need. They’ll think you and Nate are with him together, and that’s… that gets Nate enough time, too. Dad can’t read me when I lie, and he can read you. Once you see me signal you, you have until dawn to get him somewhere safe and get back here in time for ‘Isaac’ to make a break for it from the mansion and be caught and shot dead on the edge of town. Got it?” _

_ “Ryan, tell me… tell me we’re not killing someone to save Isaac’s life.” _

_ “Not someone real,” Ryan said with a shrug, and that was that. _

The guests were too close and Danny turned away, swallowing hard. As they sighted him and called his name, he grabbed Isaac by the shoulders and pushed his back up against the wall, leaning in against his neck, buying himself a second just to breathe, to not have to come up with more lies.

He couldn’t be Abraham right now, he couldn’t. It was burning the muzzle scars on his face to try, to say the awful fucking things everyone wanted him to say. Instead, he buried his face against Isaac’s neck and took in his scent, soap-clean and uniquely his. 

Isaac shuddered, pressed between him and the wall, and as Danny’s lips brushed his neck he tilted his head back to give him easier access, breathing in awful, frightened gasps that Danny recognized all too well. 

“Sorry,” Danny whispered into his skin, as the laughing guests walked past, made a ribald comment about Danny being unable to keep his hands off the new toy, and kept walking. “I’m so sorry, Isaac, I kn-know exactly how this feels, I’m so sorry…”

“Then… then wh-why are you doing this to me?” Isaac managed, in a thin voice, tears still standing in his eyes. Danny slid one hand up behind his neck, fumbling with the buckle on the shock collar, and he felt Isaac shifting again, tense as a bowstring about to snap. “Why are you  _ doing this?” _

“Because I have to,” Danny said softly, raising his head to whisper against Isaac’s ear. “Be, because I have to, because we h-have a plan, Isaac, because we have a  _ plan…” _

Isaac shivered, turning his head to the side and his eyes away. All of it a mix of calculated and shaking, fearful attempts to do what would be  _ good,  _ be  _ obedient,  _ to the person he thought would be keeping him captive to play with. Danny’s stomach twisted.

_ I deserved everything the Denners ever did to me in the name of punishing the Syndicates, because we treat people like this, make people into things that we own or chess pieces to move around the board.  _

_ I’m a Michaelson - and Isaac pays the price for it. _

_ I should be the one paying the price. _

“I don’t w-want to be… to be part of this plan,” Isaac said, not quite whining, not quite begging. Ryan was supposed to show up to give the signal any second now, and Danny just… didn’t know how long he could keep this act up. But if he went the right direction at the wrong time, they’d be intercepted, and they’d never make it out of here at all without someone seeing them and telling his mother.

Some more party guests stumbled by - Danny remembered, them, vaguely, but not their names - and they grinned as they stopped, the woman gesturing with a slosh of the drink in her hand where Danny had Isaac pinned against the wall. “Jesus, Dan, he’s a beaut. Do we get to try him out, or are you only into sharing with Nate these days?”

“Please, no,” Isaac whispered,  _ pleaded,  _ and this is one thing Danny could give him now, even if he couldn’t give him anything else yet.

“Fuck off,” Danny growled over his shoulder, pulling Isaac closer to him, their hips flush together. There was a hint of pleasure, there, under all the guilt and pain, and he knew Isaac could feel it, too, as the other man’s breath caught, a little differently than the sound of fear.

_ Never hard to make a born whore like it,  _ Abraham whispered against the back of his neck, and Danny closed his eyes, trying to ignore the voice. 

“That’s a Michaelson for you,” The male guest said, shrugging. “They never share their playthings. Come on, Daniel, just a touch? He’s way too pretty to keep all to yourself.”

The female guest laughed, a shrill titter that dug into Danny’s ears like icepicks. “Come on, don’t be so  _ stingy.  _ I just want to see if what Brett said about what’s under those fancy clothes is  _ true.” _

Brett. One of the armed men that had been standing by Isaac when Danny had greeted him earlier, one of Corrine’s most loyal guards. He had seen Isaac naked at some point, if he was telling party guests about what Isaac’s body looked like…

Isaac’s fingers brushed at his jaw, and Danny turned to look into desperate, frightened eyes. “Please don’t let her touch me. Ev… everyone was, in the-the room… t-they wouldn’t stop, can you-... can you please, just… just make it  _ st-stop _ for a second?” 

Isaac’s voice was a  _ whimper.  _

Danny’s temper flared again, anger he was so fucking grateful for, and he slid an arm around Isaac’s neck and turned to look at the guests. What they saw in his eyes was enough for the smiles to start to drain from their faces.

“He’s not yours to touch,” Danny said, and his voice was strong and even, it didn’t shake. “Not in the slightest. So keep moving or I’ll have you escorted out for trying to get your hands on property that doesn’t belong to you.”

“God, Daniel, I’m sorry. I was just asking. Jesus, I guess his fucking  _ temper’s  _ back,” She muttered to her friend. “Now that he’s got his own plaything. Come on, let’s go.” The two of them moved on, and Danny took in deep breaths, trying to calm himself again. 

There was a pause, and then Isaac said, softly, “Thank you.”

_ Thank you for letting me sleep, Abraham. _

_ Thank you for letting me eat today. _

_ Thank you for showing me what I deserve. _

_ Thank you for not tying me down today. _

_ Thank you for letting Nate clean me up, Abraham, when I was so good for your friends, for you- _

“Don’t thank me,” Danny mumbled, his scars burning all over his body like wounds that had only just been opened. “Please, just… just don’t… don’t do that, not yet.”

Isaac winced, looking down and to the side, his hands worrying nervously at each other. He was still tense, even though he hadn’t pulled away from Danny’s arm, and it occurred to Danny with another flip of his stomach - how long until he threw up, at this point, and gave his fear and guilt away all over again? - that he didn’t trust Danny… he just thought placating Danny was his best bet, now. 

Isaac had decided time on his knees or his back was better than what would happen otherwise. Danny had made decisions like that, over and over and over.

This was  _ his fault,  _ and he would make it right and then he would find a way to  _ make _ himself pay the price for what his mother had done.

“Why the  _ fuck  _ did I think I deserved anything good?” Danny asked himself, not even aware he had spoken out loud. Isaac stiffened, in his grip. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something when a soft  _ psssst!  _ sounded from the other end of the hallway, and Danny looked up to see the signal he’d been waiting for.

Ryan’s eyes, glowing yellow in the dark. 

Isaac flinched. “Wh-what-... is th, that your  _ brother?” _

“Come on,” Danny said without answering, grabbing him by the wrist again and pulling him down the hall, to the end where Ryan waited for them. “Come on, Isaac, that’s… this is it, this is the plan. Come on, we have to go.”

“I-I… I d-don’t, can I just… we’re g-going upstairs now?” Isaac stumbled behind him and then caught himself, his face pale and teeth ground together in a way that made Danny think he must still be feeling the ache from the way the party guests had been using him as their personal shock toy.

“No,” Danny said, without pausing. “We’re going downstairs.”

“Th-the  _ basement-”  _ Isaac’s breathing changed, turned into harsh pants, and he came to a sudden stop, Danny yanked to a stop as well. “N-No, please, I was-... I was good, I told your mother and… and I w-w-was good, Danny, please,  _ please don’t hurt me-” _

“Hey, wait. Isaac, that's not-"

"I don't want to go to the basement," Isaac said, desperately, grabbing onto Danny's hands. His eyes were wide and white all around the edges, big as saucers in his face. "Please, I'm sorry, I-I can, be good I was  _ good _ with y-you, before, please I don't want to be tortured, please… j-just, please, fuck me instead,  _ please- _ "

Danny opened his mouth to answer but felt a cold hand, cold fingers, sliding around his throat.  _ Beg, puppy. Look at you, you can't bleed much more. Beg me to fuck you and we can give our guests the show they paid for, Red. _

He couldn't do this... He was going to drop, he just, he shouldn't… 

_ Say it, puppy. Open your mouth and beg, let these people see what the Syndicate son can do. _

He was opening his mouth,  _ please, Abraham, I need you  _ on his lips before he realized it was a memory, and not real. "Please don't do that," he said, weakly. 

"B-but, I just-... what can I do to stay out of the basement? Just, whatever it… whatever it is, I'll d-do it, please…"

"No, Isaac, just, um…” Danny turned, putting a finger to Isaac's lips. "Please, you have to, to stop begging, you have to  _ stop _ ." The voice was too much like his, the cracks in the two of them were too close to mirror reflections of each other. 

Broken men - and all broken men, in the end, beg the same. 

Isaac stared at him, almost hopeful now. Maybe just desperate to find some mercy in his… his  _ captor.  _ Danny had worn that expression before, too. "You, you kn-know I can be good," Isaac whispered. "Please. I-I can't be tortured again, Danny,  _ please.  _ Not by… not by you."

“No, we’re not-... I’m getting you  _ out of here _ , Isaac, b-back to your family, just… just don’t do that, don’t… talk like that…”

He didn’t see light in Isaac’s face, at the words. Instead, the man only stared at him with a dark, wounded despair. “Don’t do that,” He said, not quite a whisper.

_ “Get your asses over here,”  _ Ryan hissed from the end of the hall.

“Don’t do, um, do what?” Danny asked, his own voice shaking, just a little. 

“Don’t... give me  _ hope _ if you’re just going to cut me apart with it,” Isaac said, and blinked rapidly as his eyes welled with tears all over again. 

Danny wanted so badly to hold him, and knew at the same time that it wouldn’t do a damn thing to help. 

“I’m not,” Danny said, and reached up to wipe one of the tears that escaped Isaac’s eyes away with his thumb. He was surprised - genuinely and honestly surprised - when Isaac closed his eyes and leaned  _ into _ the touch, instead of pulling away from it. “I’m not, Isaac. But you have to go with me, okay? I can’t… Nate has, has a plan to get you out and b-back to your family, but we have to go  _ now  _ and we have to go th-through… through the, um, the basement to do it. I… I need you to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Isaac barked out a disbelieving, bitter laugh, as Danny pulled him down the hall again, where Ryan gestured impatiently - and made a series of other fairly rude gestures, too. “After, after what you s-said to your mom-”

“She was going to  _ kill you,”  _ Danny whispered, voice wavering. “I knew what she wanted me to say, and I didn’t… I didn’t know what else to  _ do.” _

“Maybe don’t call me a, a  _ whore,  _ after we-”

“It’s the only way she wouldn’t have shot you!” Danny hissed, then put his hands up over his face, breathing hard, turning slightly away. “No. This is, we need to not, um, to not fight right now, can you… can you be mad at me after we’re in, um, Nate’s car?”

“How about the both of you  _ shut the fuck up  _ and get Isaac out of here before the next round of Mom’s guards comes walking right down the goddamn hallway?” Ryan said from his hiding spot near the end of the hall, his voice barely audible - but audibly annoyed, nonetheless. “Come on, don’t make me get my ass in trouble because you can’t pull off a rescue, Dan.”

“R-Right. Right, come on, Isaac,” Danny said, and this time he didn’t grab Isaac, but just started walking - and tried not to let out too big a sigh of relief when he heard Isaac’s footsteps just behind his. There was a burst of loud laughter from the party behind them, and Danny quickened his steps as he had to fight not to hear the shrill, broken-glass sound of Ashley’s laugh and the barking hyena-noise of Abraham’s.

_ Okay, this trick is called ‘go down’. Come here, puppy, show the people how you go down! _

Ryan reached out to grab him as he passed, and pulled Danny into a crushing hug. Ryan’s skin was feverish-hot, a side effect of his glowing eyes and what he was doing to keep them shadowed and shaded here, where no one would see them right away. Isaac kept staring at them, and blinking, rubbing at his eyes and staring again. “I’m sorry this happened,” He said softly to Danny. “I can buy you until dawn. That’s the best I can do. Tell your boyfriend he owes me  _ big  _ this time.”    
  
Ryan pulled back, paused, and turned to look at Isaac. “Hey.”

Isaac stared at him wide-eyed, and slowly took a step behind Danny, as if even now he would try and hide behind him. “Wh-what the fuck is wrong with your-”

“I don’t have time to even  _ begin _ to explain what all I am right now. Just… tell Sam this sucked, and I’m sorry, and I’ll make it up to them. Somehow. Not sure… just how, yet, but…” Ryan shrugged and flashed his brilliant, charming smile. “I’ll find them. And I’ll find a way.” He paused. “Wait, no, that was unnecessarily threatening. Just… tell them I’m sorry. They were my favorite, this past week.”

“I… I will,” Isaac said, still not moving from where he stood with Danny between himself and Ryan. Ryan just rolled his eyes in return, clasped Danny’s hands once more, and then moved back down the way Danny and Isaac had come from, the shadows trailing along behind him.

“D-Danny,” Isaac whispered. “Is your Syndicate…  _ human?” _

“I am,” Danny said, softly, and started walking again, taking a sharp right and heading down a hallway, feeling his heart start to beat with a heavy weight he had to struggle against. 

The basement. Down in the dark, the door to the tunnel they needed to use to sneak out of here at the other end of a hallway of cells Corrine used to punish insubordination, bring in the anti-Syndicate operatives they located, and keep the occasional food source…

Down in the dark.

“I, that… that d-doesn’t answer my question, Danny.” Isaac hurried to keep up with him, Danny’s long legs closing the distance rapidly. If he didn’t keep walking, if he paused or tried to look back, he’d never be able to make himself do this.

In the back of his mind, a cold voice, a whisper of fingers along his neck.

_ Forty-two days in the cellar, puppy, that’s a new personal best for you, isn’t it? Are you ready to be sorry now, for what you did to the nice man with those teeth? I mean, you can’t apologize to him, he bled to death and who knew you could bleed to death just from getting your-... oh, listen to that pretty pretty whine, you'd almost think your teeth weren't so dangerous… _

“Shut up,” Danny muttered, and heard Isaac make a soft, unsettled sound. “Not… sorry. Just, just memories, I can’t-...”

The hallway was dark, but it had to be. There wouldn’t be any lights on in this part of the house during a party, no reason for anyone to even come down here. If they turned on lights, the guards might notice and come to check, even with Ryan’s shadows a constant whisper of  _ nothing to see here, nothing to be curious about  _ to distract them.

The hallway was dark, but it  _ had  _ to be. 

Danny’s mouth was dry, and he swallowed, again and again, trying to force something down his throat but the collar was so tight, and they laughed when he spit it back up, laughed and kicked him and he felt something snap inside-

“Not the cellar,” He whispered, and forced himself to keep moving. “Not the cellar, not the cellar, not… not,  _ not.” _

“Danny?” Isaac’s voice was thin and faint, faded, coming from somewhere far away. The hallway pressed in on him from every side, with only the occasional soft yellowed lamplight from inside the rooms they passed to remind him of where he was. “Danny, where-”

“There,” Danny said, and pointed.

At the end of the hallway, a simple, perfectly average door, with a passcode lock. Brass doorknob, plain fresh wood, unpainted. Corrine replaced it.  _ Darling,  _ Patrick had said, teasingly, sliding one dark fingertip down the rough scratches along the inside of the old one.  _ You’re playing with food again... _

“That’s… that’s the basement?” Isaac’s voice was still too far away and he could barely understand him, but Danny slowly nodded. 

“It’s not the cellar,” Danny said, and felt his fingers shake as he slowly put his hand over the doorknob. The shake seemed to travel up his arms and along his nerves. “It’s not. It’s  _ n-not  _ the cellar, and I’m not alone in the, the darkness, and there’s going to be a light when we get to the tunnel, and… and it won’t stay like this, it won’t st-stay dark, won’t, um, won’t stay… there’s lights, lights in the, um, the tunnel…”

“Danny, are you-...” Isaac’s voice caught, and Danny kept his eyes down, feeling shame wash through him, bone-deep. He couldn’t stand to look at him. “Are you afraid of the… the dark?”

_ Grown man,  _ Abraham whispered into the back of his mind.  _ Look at you, grown man afraid of the dark. I did that to you. Aren’t you so proud of me, puppy? Nod your pretty head... _

“It’s not the cellar,” Danny whispered. “There’s a tunnel, um, at the end of the hall. It’s not the cellar… There’s a tunnel, there’s a door, Nate’s got a car at the end he’s got a car, I just… I just have to unl-” His breath caught, he was breathing in shallow pants around the leather collar buckled around his neck digging so deeply into his skin that he was always rubbed raw and bleeding. “Just have to unlock the door in th-th-the dark…”

There was a silence, and then Isaac’s fingers twined with him, warmth and human life, for the first time since they had come back from walking in the woods and found Corrine sitting on the couch waiting for them.

“Were you held in the dark?” Isaac asked, and something in his voice changed. The trembling fear began to slide away from it, and in its place was a deeper certainty. He sounded like Nate - a protector, finding someone who needed protection. “Are you-... are you scared of the basement because he held you in the dark? Is that why you had that light on in your room when I st-stayed with you?"

“B-bad dog,” Danny said, softly. “Bad dogs go in the kennel, in the-... in the cellar, because they’re bad, because they bite-”

“Oh, fuck,” Isaac breathed. “Danny. Do you-... is Nate really down there? Or, or at the other… the other end, like you said?”

“In a car,” Danny said, but his lips felt numb, like he could barely move them. He could hear his blood rushing in his head, but everywhere else felt bloodless, numb. “In a car at the door, at the end of the tunnel. Waiting. I c-can’t-... I can’t open the door…” He was dizzy, the shallow breathing wasn’t enough oxygen, and the world spun, briefly.

His knees buckled until he locked them steady again.

If he passed out, it would get too dark, and there wouldn’t be any light, and-... and he’d be in the dark forever, curled against the bars, waiting for his chance to say he’s so sorry and he’ll be good, he can be good…

“Hey.” The voice snapped him back to the plain wooden door. He turned to stare at Isaac, his face bloodless-white, nearly glowing all on its own. A freckled ghost of a man, too scared to open a door. But Isaac’s face, when he looked, wasn't frightened anymore.

Or if it was, he found a way to push it down. 

“Listen to me. If… if Nate’s really at the end of a-a tunnel, if you’re n-not… not lying to me-” Isaac’s voice cracked. "Then…"

"I'm not. I can't… do this to you. I don’t want to hurt you, I-I can’t… couldn’t do to anyone what they did to me, Isaac. I can’t make you the  _ puppy. _ I  _ care  _ about you, I just-" The collar around Danny's neck was  _ so tight,  _ the leather rubbing and rubbing and they laughed at him when he bled and licked it up and then…

Isaac's collar. Danny's hands were up in a flash and Isaac flinched back, but Danny was too focused to care. One hand held Isaac still while the other undid the buckle as quickly as he could, fumbling at it.

He felt Isaac  _ sag  _ with relief when he yanked the fucking thing off and threw it - and the remote - as far down the hall as they would go, thumping along the floor until they went still.

His own collar was gone, suddenly. Had never been there. Danny could breathe.

Isaac watched him, and then he reached up, touching Danny's face, eyes wide. "Are you really going to, to get me out?"

"Y-yeah," Danny said weakly. "But I can't… can't open the door. It's… the cellar down there, again, the dark-... I'll, I was a bad dog, I'll be trapped, bad  _ dog,  _ Red-" 

He smacked himself in the side of the head, and Isaac grabbed his wrist, pulling it back down. "Sssshhhh," Isaac said, the strange steady certainty in his voice. As though, given a reason, he had put all his own fear aside. “Not… not that. No cellar. That’s not a cellar. It’s your m-mother’s…” Isaac took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Her  _ basement,  _ but it’s not… not his cellar. You’re not there any longer.  I'm going to trust you to get me out like you say, Danny, but… but you have to... to trust that I can keep you safe in the dark. Can you do that?"

His hands were warm, against Danny's cold face, as he ran fingertips and palms over the burn of his scars like they weren’t even there, like they didn’t exist.

At the end of the tunnel, Nate was waiting for them, and Danny couldn't let him down, or let down Isaac’s friends - he’d called them his  _ family,  _ over and over, and Danny knew what it felt like to struggle for a family.

He slowly nodded into the touch of Isaac’s hands. “Y-yes,” He said, softly. Somewhere they’d traded places - Danny was the frightened one, and Isaac the strength. “I, I trust you, Isaac.”

“Okay. Now… now open the door, and we’ll go down there together.”   
  
Danny held out one hand, and Isaac took it again, gripping on tightly. Danny took a deep breath, and put in the passcode to unlock the door -  _ 1845\.  _ The lock clicked open and he turned the doorknob, swinging open the door to the dim yellowed single bulb that he could barely see lighting concrete flooring at the bottom of a set of stairs.

“Your mom saw a lot of horror movies,” Isaac said, his voice slightly strangled. As if on cue, the single yellowed light bulb seemed to swing back and forth, just a little, casting shadows along the part of the floor they could see.

“My mom  _ inspired them,”  _ Danny muttered, and took his first step down. He was aware his grip on Isaac was so tight it had to hurt - like he’d held him running from the party with their laughter at his back - but Isaac didn’t try to get free or pull away. He only stepped down beside him, and his grip was just as firm, as frightened.

“You never answered m-my question before. Is your family Syndicate  _ human,  _ or-”

“Watch it!” Danny caught Isaac as he nearly missed one step, catching him by the waist before he could fall forward. Isaac’s suit was soaked with sweat - probably from when they’d been hurting him earlier - and Danny swallowed, trying to fight the guilt that wanted to curl so seductively around his fear and freeze him up again.

Step by step, they made it to the bottom, and stopped on the hard concrete floor, in the center of a wide hallway flanked on each side by barred cells.

“Oh… oh my god,” Isaac said in a low voice, and the concrete floor, the walls, the bars that stretched ahead of them all seemed to swallow the sound. “Y-your mom would have, she said she would take m-me down here if I wasn’t good, I-” 

His breathing sped up again, and Danny slid an arm around his waist once more, his eyes scanning constantly in what he could see, what little the single light bulb gave him. Shadows moved in the corners, the things in Abraham’s eyes, but he told himself they weren’t real this time.

Not this time.

“But she didn’t,” Danny said, and started walking again, hearing the sound of his own shoes moving quietly along the floor as loudly as a shout. It was empty down here - Corrine wasn’t holding anyone right now, and if she had brought Isaac here, he’d have been utterly, completely alone.

Each cell had a small cot in the corner, rings in the walls to hook anti-Syndicate operatives or other family enemies to. Some of the cells had stains. One still had, in the corner, what looked suspiciously like a thigh bone with a series of small, evenly spaced lines etched into it by the hand of someone long, long gone.

Interrogation tools were lined up on specialized shelves on the wall, blunt or sharp, leather and metal, each with its own purpose.

Purposes Danny and Isaac both were far too familiar with. 

Isaac pressed against his side, his eyes wide as he started to shake again, and Danny pushed himself forward with his arm around the other man’s waist as firmly as he could make it. Down here the air was always cold, and it smelled like metal and stone.

They kept walking - as Danny didn’t stop or even pause, now, only ground his teeth together and kept moving with Abraham’s shadows snapping at his heels, whispering  _ puppy, bad dog, bad dog Red  _ in his ears. Cold fingers in his hair and cold lips against the back of his neck, on the tattoos they’d carved in him to claim him like Corrine had branded Isaac to make him Michaelson property for life.

“I’m s-sorry about your brand,” Danny said. They walked through pitch blackness for a few feet, and he turned by memory alone down the second hallway, where another light bulb hung, letting out breath he hadn’t known he was holding once they stepped back into the small circle of dubious safety. “I know it’s… g-going to cause, um, cause problems…”

“It d-d-doesn’t matter. Just get me the, the fuck out of here. Please, and I will beg  _ so much if you want me to-” _

“I don’t. Ever, I j-just… here. Here we go, this is the last… the last turn, and, um, Nate is… Nate is in a car, at the end of a tunnel waiting for us, he’s going to be there and it’s okay to walk in the dark, nothing is h-here with me…”

“It’s okay. It’s, I’m not going in any of th-these cells,” Isaac said, and his voice was so similar to Danny’s - deep and masculine and shaking with terror.

Broken men talk their way back to courage just the same, too.

“You’re not. No one’s down here to hurt us.” He knew the tunnel was close, and he walked even faster, Isaac struggling once again to keep up with his longer legs and his speed. “No one. You don’t go in any of these cells, and I-I don’t have to, to be eaten by the dark again or go in the kennel, not a bad dog,  _ not a bad dog-” _

“Not going to die down here, not… not going to g-get tortured, to, to death, he’s not going to c-cut me or whip me anymore, it’s over, it won’t happen again…”

“The door will open to the tunnels and there are, um, lights in the tunnel-”

“-and there aren’t any cells in the tunnel, and there won’t be, it’ll be safer, it’ll be-”

“Nate’s car will be waiting for us, Nate is waiting, we have to… I can’t let him down, can’t let you down, can’t… have to pay the price,” Danny muttered, wishing he could hurt himself again somehow, knowing he couldn’t. He had to focus, to stay with it. “Syndicates… do this to people, and, and I just-”

There it was. The double-doors to the service tunnel, huge and made from metal, with a bar you had to push back and turn to get them open. An easy way to get supplies - or operatives who needed interrogated - in and out without being seen or tracked. 

Danny pushed the bar back, and it shrieked in protest along the older metal frame that held it. He froze, glancing back over his shoulder, but this deep into the basement it was incredibly unlikely they could possibly be heard. One side of the doors swung open just enough, and Danny slipped in, to the other side, Isaac right on his heels as much to escape the concrete and metal bars - not iron, although Danny wouldn’t have thought to share that - as he was actually trusting that there was an escape at the end of the tunnel itself.

The tunnel was large enough for two trucks to drive side by side, and arched high over their heads. The oldest part of the mansion currently standing, the tunnel was here before Syndicates, when the company was brand new, and it wasn’t operatives Corrine snuck in to hide in the cells in her family home’s basement.

It was lit along both sides with constant small rectangular yellow lights, giving a dim sewer kind of glow, but there were very few shadows, and Danny felt Abraham’s whispers finally starting to fade.

He closed the door behind them and kept moving.

Isaac’s breathing steadied as soon as the basement was behind them, and the two of them walked in relative silence down the tunnel. Their footsteps echoed in here, and somewhere water dripped in a relentless, unending rhythm, but that was all. The tunnel was winding, but short, and it wasn’t long before they were breathing cool, fresh air and not the stale mustiness from being underground. 

“Oh, god, you meant it,” Isaac said softly when they could hear the sound of an idling car engine coming from the opening that would lead them back outside. “You actually… you actually meant it.”

The look on his face was of a gratitude so overwhelmingly sharp that it had to physically hurt.

“I was the puppy for, um, for four years,” Danny said softly. He tried to let go of Isaac’s hand, now - and found to his surprise that Isaac kept holding onto him, tightening his fingers until Danny stopped. “I would never-...  _ ever _ do that to anyone. But I didn’t know how else to keep you al, alive, and… and Nate told y-your, um, your family so they could run away. He’s going to take us to where they are.”

When they walked out of the tunnel, Nate got out of the perfectly nondescript gray car he’d been driving. “Are y-y-you two okay?” He asked, his voice careful and even.

“No,” Danny said at the same time Isaac said, “Yes.”

“We have a w-w-ways to go, and we’re on a d-deadline,” Nate said, and moved around ot the side, opening the back door. “Go ahead and cl-climb in, Isaac-”

“I’m going in the back with him,” Danny said, and he and Nate met eyes. Even in the dark of the night, with the sounds of crickets and other night insects and animals around them, he and Nate had always known how to speak without speaking. There was a pause, and Nate only nodded and got back into the driver’s side.

Isaac stripped off his suit jacket, tossing it carelessly into the car ahead of him, moving to sit in the backseat. Danny climbed in beside him, but he didn’t put on his seatbelt - instead he pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, staring straight ahead as Nate pulled away from the tunnel and drove carefully in the dark with his headlights off.

They were nearly invisible, like this, and left the Michaelson’s compound behind, winding through dark streets and past houses with lights on, gradually moving into a neighborhood where there were fewer occupied homes and far more that seemed abandoned or destroyed, evidence of places where anti-Syndicate groups had come in and tried to fight back.

“I’m so sorry,” Danny whispered, after a while. “It wasn’t… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have, have been interested, I just… really liked you.”

Isaac, sitting on the other end of the backseat, looked over at him. Danny didn’t dare turn his head - he never saw what kind of expression Isaac made in response, before he looked back ahead. “Yeah,” He said heavily. “I liked you, too.”

After that, the drive was silent. Nate drove with unerring skill, and only turned on his headlights when he thought they were far enough away, and safe. He picked up speed, then, too, no longer attempting careful maneuvers to defeat any potential Michaelson guards who might have witnessed them leaving. 

Finally, when the city became town and the town became countryside, Nate pulled over on the side of the road next to a small stand of trees. Isaac looked up, blinking. “What… what are you doing?” He asked, a hint of nervous worry in his voice. 

“Y-Your brand,” Nate said, his voice flat. “You’re m-m-marked for us. Everywhere you go, they’ll t-t-try to sell you back. They’ll all s-see you as a Michaelson plaything, not a man, with a m-m-mark like that.”

Danny curled up even tighter, closing his eyes.

_ He  _ was the one who deserved to be branded. He was the Syndicate son, who was punished for the ways families like his treated the people they disliked - or liked too much. Isaac didn’t deserve any of this - Danny did.

“I… I know, b-but… my family will help-”

“No. They’ll only g-get hurt. I can h-help you.” Nate turned to look back over the seat now, elbow resting on the back of his own seat. “I can c-cut the brand off your skin. It’ll heal up with a sc-scar, but you won’t be marked for uh-... us.” 

“That’ll hurt like  _ hell,”  _ Danny whispered. “Nate, are you, are you, um, sure-”

“Yes,” Isaac interrupted him, leaning slowly forwards. “Do it. Cut… cut it out. Cut it off of me. Whatever makes my family safe. I can… c-can take a little pain.”

Nate smiled, faintly, and shook his head. “You don’t h-h-have to. I can g-give you something for the p-p-pain. It won’t kn-knock you out, but…” He shrugged. “I have to in… inject it.”

Isaac’s eyebrows furrowed, and he swallowed, hard. “Inject it? Like… a needle?”

“Y-Yes.”

There was a silence in the car. Classic rock played, almost low enough to be inaudible, on the car’s stereo. Danny looked to his left to see Isaac staring between the two of them, uncertain. “It w-won’t… hurt me?” He asked, softly. 

“It will… m-make you… vulnerable,” Nate admitted. “Not unconscious. But… v-v-vulnerable. Essentially h-helpless. You’ll have to trust us.”

Another silence.

Danny unfolded himself and leaned slowly forwards, until both of them were looking at him. He let his hair shake over his eyes, to hide his gaze, and took off his own suit jacket now. 

“D-Danny…?” Nate asked, looking baffled. “Wh-what are you-”

“Show him how it works,” Danny said, and his voice was strong again. “Inject me, first. Let him see what it does so he knows what will happen."

_ Just hold still, puppy, and you’ll fly high tonight... _

Nate hesitated, then slowly nodded and pulled something up from the footwell in front of the passenger seat, opening a small box. Danny unbuttoned his left cuff on his shirtsleeve, and by the time Nate had the needle and small medical wipe ready, Danny already had his shirtsleeve rolled up to his elbow.

“Danny, you-... you don’t have to,” Isaac started, and Danny only shook his head.

_ I’ll prove that I wasn’t lying, that I really liked you. I’ll prove it. _

Danny held his arm out for Nate’s needle. “I trusted you in the dark,” Danny said softly. “I want… I want you to know you can trust me, still, too.”


	17. Unmarked

The worst part wasn’t the needle sliding into Danny’s arm, the little hiss as Nate slowly injected the contents of the syringe. The worst part was how Danny sat back, shaking a little, before he started to fade. Those blue eyes got a horrible dull look to them as he slipped away. He looked at Isaac with a blank expression that looked… empty. Like he’d been there before.

Isaac’s voice shook a little. “Wh-what did you give him?”

“Versed,” Nate said calmly has he reached for another syringe.

Isaac turned his eyes to Nate. “What is that?”

Nate drew up the next dose with practiced care. “It’s a b-benzodiazepine. Like Xanax. It’ll r-relax you. And… you won’t r-r-remember me cutting the b-brand off.”

Isaac swallowed. “I won’t… remember?”

Nate flicked the syringe and pushed the bubbles out of the needle. “It k-kind of… turns off your m-memory for a little while. B-before and, and after. Means you might not r-remember this c-c-conversation, either.” He reached for Isaac’s arm.

Isaac froze. Nate paused and sat back in the seat. His eyes softened just a little… like they did when he looked at Danny. Nate opened his mouth. Shut it again. Blew out a slow breath. “I’m sor, sorry this ha-happened to you.”

Tears burned in Isaac’s eyes as he turned to look at Danny, slumped in the seat, eyes half closed. Isaac licked his lips. “Did he –”

“Yes.” Isaac looked back to Nate. “Wha, whatever you’re g-going to ask, the an, answer is yes.”

“Oh.” A tear ran down his cheek. “He… I thought…” Nate waited. “I thought he… wanted to…”

“He needed to s-save your life. He did what needed to be, to be done. You’d be dead r-right now if he, uh. If he hadn’t.”

“I know.” Isaac wiped at his eyes. “I know that _now._ But… I thought… and he’s been… _held_ … too…”

A deep fury coiled behind Nate’s eyes. “Yes. And I’m going to do to the people who hurt you what I did to the people who hurt _him.”_

Isaac swallowed hard. He didn’t want to think about what that meant, although he thought he knew. “He…” Isaac rolled his eyes to the roof of the car, embarrassed at the tears that wouldn’t stop running down his cheeks. “He called me a… a _whore_ … He _claimed_ me…”

“I know.” Nate’s voice was even. No stutter.

“I thought I’d never see my family again… I thought it was happening… _all over again_ … Corrine said she’d torture me and, um.” He shuddered. “Dispose of me when you got… um… _tired_ of me…” He was trembling, holding down the sob that was rising in his throat.

“I know.”

Isaac let himself fold forward and covered his face with his hands. “I thought… I thought it was happening all over again. But Gavin never… _collared_ me. Gavin –” He froze, and the words caught in his throat. He felt a cold thrill of terror down his spine. He lifted his eyes to Nate and saw anger, but not rage. Not murderous fury. “You knew.”

“I sus, suspected,” Nate said softly. “The way you all act ar-around him, the way you look at him… and, and _d-don’t_ look at him.”

“Oh.” Isaac’s hands were shaking. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please… please don’t kill him.”

Nate snorted. “I’m s-surprised you _haven’t_ killed him, f-for what he’s done.” He shrugged. “B-but if he’s w-with you, then I w-won’t touch him. I d-d-don’t know what’s ha, happened b-between you two to make things r-right.”

“He…” Isaac ran his hand through his hair, still damp from the party. “Vera… um… tore his father’s throat out in front of him. And shot him in the chest. He hates the smell of blood now. The thought of hurting people makes him… scared.”

Nate was grinning darkly. “Ve, Vera did…?” He chuckled. “I knew there was a r-reason I liked, liked her.”

“You don’t need a reason,” Isaac mumbled. “She’s incredible.”

“That she is.” Nate looked pointedly at Isaac’s arm. “Are you, r-ready?”

Isaac’s breath caught in his throat. “And… that will…” He shot a glance at Danny. He still sagged against the car door, his eyes partially open and moving slowly around the car, seeing nothing. Isaac wrapped his arms around himself. “You can…” He cleared his throat as he tried to find the words. “You’ll be able to…”

Nate waited, his green eyes seeming to pierce through Isaac.

“Once you give me that…” Isaac eyed the syringe. “…you can do… whatever you want. To me.”

Nate’s eyes softened again. “Yes. You’ll b-be sedate, a-and suggestable. B, but…” He glanced at Danny. “I kn-know you don’t have a good r-reason to trust, to trust me. After everything that’s been d-done to you. But…” He nodded in Danny’s direction. “He was… he was willing to ta-take this, too. For you. So you w-would feel safe.” He held Isaac’s gaze steadily. “He c-cares about you. M-more than you know. And he would, ah. He would do anything to ke-keep you safe.” There was a slight tremble in Nate’s lips. “…and s-so would, would I.”

Isaac could feel the panic rising in him. _Once he gives me that, he can do anything he wants to me. Anything at all. He could drive me back to the house, right now. I’d wake up in a cell. In the basement. He could sell me to Colleen Stormbeck. He could use me as leverage to bring my family back to the Michaelsons. He could… he could do whatever he wants to me_ right here. _He could…_ Isaac couldn’t finish the thought. He couldn’t stand to think of the things he’d done with Danny and Nate turned around and made something awful. He couldn’t.

He looked at Danny. He looked at the dull eyes, the hint of fear in the tension around his mouth, even when he was sedated. He saw the man who had walked through the basement with him. The man who had reached out and pushed away his mother’s gun, for him. The man who had said those awful things, _been_ that awful thing, to save his life. He swallowed hard. He nodded. He held out his arm to Nate.

Nate took it gently and cleaned the crook of his elbow with an alcohol swab. Isaac shivered as Nate handled the syringe, guided the needle into the vein that stood out in his arm even without a tourniquet. He shivered as he felt the cold momentarily rush through his vein. He bit his lip as Nate withdrew the needle and held his thumb over the vein to keep the blood in until he could reach for some gauze.

The sedative took some time to work. Isaac kept feeling into his body, waiting for the tendrils of exhaustion to snake through and drag him unconscious. He waited for the feeling of limp, total vulnerability to wash through him and leave him trapped in his own body.

It came on faster than he thought he would. He felt an upwelling of… stark relaxation. He felt the tension flowing out of his limbs, felt himself droop back against the seat of the car without having made the decision to do it. He felt his brain swim with foggy, comfortable confusion. He couldn’t find it in himself to be scared anymore, even with the words repeating in the back of his mind: _Nate can do anything to me now. Nate can do anything to me now. Nate can do anything to me now. Nate can do anything to me now._

He felt a presence over him, a weight on his legs and chest. A soft voice in his ear. _“Let m-me just get this off, off you and we c-can keep going. I just want to get the, the brand off.”_ He felt his head pinned down against the car door. He felt pain sparking in his neck, then stabbing through, as the knife cut through the skin to the undamaged layers underneath. He felt his mouth open, heard a scream fill the car. _That’s not mine._ He tried to push away at the pain, the confusion. _Nate said he wouldn’t hurt me._

_“I’m sor-sorry.”_

_Nate has to get the brand off._

He felt the trickle of hot blood down his neck, and the rag that caught it. He felt more gauze pressing into the wound. Burning. He whimpered. More pressure.

_Gavin’s choking me again._

He opened his mouth to beg. The words came out as a string of slurred sounds, not even speech. “Nnn—Nuuh p—nnnuuuoo.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. His arms were limp against the car seat. He couldn’t push Gavin away. _I’m going to die now, after everything._ He couldn’t fight it. He gave himself over to it.

The pressure eased. He heard a strange _shhhrk_ sound and realized it was tape as Nate stuck it on his neck. _Why is he taping my neck? What’s going on?_ He felt the swipe of the rag again. More blood wiped away. His head lolled on his neck.

_“It’s d-done. It’ll scar, but… you won’t be m-marked.”_

He felt himself being arranged a bit straighter in the seat, the seatbelt coming around to hold him in place. He felt the soft brush of a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair out of his face.

_“Let’s g-get you home to your family.”_

His head dropped onto his chest.


	18. Reunion

The first thing Danny was genuinely aware of was the realization that the car had stopped, in front of a small two-story house all by itself in the country, idyllic if run-down, with lights on in the windows. He heard the crunch of Nate’s footsteps as he exited the car and walked up to the house, the rhythmic thumps of him knocking on the door.

A voice spoke, and then another, too quiet to understand. One voice was Nate's, though, and Danny relaxed. If Nate was here, it was all okay.

"Hey, you're up." The voice just next to him was low and warm, a voice he  _ knew _ but not right away. There were warm fingers wrapped reassuringly around his, and Danny blinked as he realized Isaac was right next to him.

The other man, still in the cream-colored shirt and dress pants from the party, lay on his side on the backseat, mostly hidden by a blanket thrown over him. Danny had curled his long body up on the floor behind the driver’s seat, head resting close to Isaac’s as the two of them slept. 

Isaac’s hair fell over his forehead, brushed against Danny’s.

There was a bright white bandage on the side of Isaac’s neck, with a hint of red spotting through, carefully applied. Isaac smiled at him, faintly. 

“Welcome back,” He said, softly.

“Did I… sleep?” Danny groaned, feeling the ache of having been in this position too long, a pulsing throb in his neck. He tried to sit up as his back protested the action. “Did I fall asleep?”

“No. But you weren’t awake, either. It didn't last as long on me, Nate said… something about how thin you are? He said drugs last forever in you. I… I think we’re here.”

A new voice."Oh, God, Isaac, please, I have to see him  _ I have to see him _ -" The sound of pounding footsteps, gasping breaths, and Isaac's face lit up in a way that Danny watched with a mix of happiness and a kind of wistful hurt.

_ If you weren't a Michaelson, you could be someone who made him look that way.  _

_ Syndicate son. Piece of shit puppy pretending to be a man. You get nothing that doesn't cause someone else indescribable pain. Take a good fucking look at what you don’t deserve. _

"They missed you," Danny said, just to watch Isaac smile.

“Yeah,” Isaac said softly, trying to push himself up to sitting, still a little weak. “Yeah, they did.”

The back door was flung open and Danny lost the support that had been holding him up, falling halfway out of the car, barely throwing his arms out to catch himself as he pulled his legs out with difficulty. When he tried to stand he wobbled right back to the ground. His palms pressed into a gravel driveway, and he looked up.

Sam, with Gavin just behind them.

Sam's eyes were wide and wild with an ecstatic, desperate happiness. Gavin's were wild, too, but they weren't focused on anything but the white bandage on the side of Isaac's neck. 

Gavin had looked for it immediately - had assumed it would be there. Gavin knew the Michaelson brand. 

“S-Sorry, Danny, I just-” Sam threw themself at Isaac, who managed to push himself up with one arm to catch them around the neck with the other as Sam clambered heedlessly into the backseat. “Isaac! Isaac, you’re okay, we were so worried, we were so scared, I just-... you’re okay, you’re  _ okay  _ you’re  _ here-” _

“I’m okay,” Isaac said, holding Sam as tightly as he could, burying his face against their hair and taking in a deep breath. To do it, he had to turn his head, and Danny heard Gavin’s intake of breath behind him as the size of the bandage on Isaac's neck became even more clear.

Danny's heart pounded with a sudden certainty of  _ danger.  _ He couldn't move, staring up at Gavin and the expression - pinched and darkly furious - on his face. 

“You have  _ got _ to be fucking kidding me,” Gavin said softly, and the  _ poison  _ in his tone lit up every nerve in Danny’s body with an old familiar panic. “You  _ branded him?” _

Sam heard and pulled back, hands going up to their mouth in shock as they saw it, too. “Oh, my God,” Sam whispered. “Oh no, Isaac, they-... they hurt you-”

"Nate cut the brand off," Isaac said, shaking his head, then wincing as the action hurt him more. "It's-... Gavin, it wasn't his fault-"

"The fuck you mean,  _ it wasn't his fault?"  _ Gavin rolled his eyes and kicked in sudden rage at the ground, gravel spitting up and hitting Danny across the arms and face. He flinched back - and saw something in Gavin's expression change.

Just a flicker, and then gone, but it was an expression Danny recognized.

"His, his mother…" Isaac still slurred, a little - the last of the medicine finding its way out of his system. "His mother did it… Gavin, he got me  _ out,  _ he's not… like his family…"

"Isaac, come on, we’ll get you inside the house. Vera made coffee since we’ll have to drive all night," Sam soothed, rubbing at his back. Danny had a sudden burst of memory - the way Isaac's scars had felt under Danny's rough hands, the way they'd looked in the light. He looked a moment too long - suddenly he was being hauled to his feet by one arm and yanked away from the car, from Isaac.

“Get out of his way,” Gavin snapped. “Let Sam help get him inside.”

Danny glared at Gavin, trying to pull his arm free, but he was still weak and felt strangely drunk from the drug still wearing off, the world spinning a little around him. It was a feeling he hated, and one he knew too well. When he was strong, they made him weak, so he was easier to restrain.

Sam helped Isaac out of the car, and Danny stepped forward, wanting to be the one Isaac could lean on like that, only to have Gavin pull him right back.

“You don’t get to fucking touch him, after what you did,” Gavin said, in a low voice, and Danny couldn’t argue with that, could he? “Stay right the fuck here, we’ll go in after them.” 

“I’ll just… I’ll just, um, go sit by Nate,” Danny said, wishing the world would sit  _ still and stop spinning already-  _ he kept having to use the grip Gavin had on his arm to balance himself. He felt like he might just fall over right here and now. 

“The fuck you will,” Gavin said softly. “I want to _ talk  _ to you a minute.”

“You’ll come in right after us?” Isaac asked, stopping close by them, locking eyes with Gavin first and then Danny. His face was shiny with sweat, and Danny knew exactly what it tasted like to lick sweat off Isaac’s skin, he just-

“Yeah. We’ll be right behind you,” Gavin said, easy as can be.

There was suspicion in Isaac’s eyes - maybe if they weren’t still kind of doped up, Danny would have pulled away, or Isaac would have refused to go any further until Gavin went ahead of him. But in the moment, he just nodded, and let Sam lead him inside the ramshackle farmhouse, in the middle of nowhere, next to a stand of trees and very little else. 

“I don’t want to, um, to talk to you,” Danny whispered, as the door closed behind Isaac. Isaac was the one who had gone into the house, but it was Danny who felt, suddenly, like he was being closed in. 

“I don’t give a fuck what you  _ want. _ Let’s talk, Syndicate son to Syndicate son.” Gavin paused, clearly expecting surprise, and when Danny just stared at him, he sighed. “Fuck, you knew that, huh? I thought your brother maybe did… what the fuck ever, it doesn’t matter now. If you were going to sell me back to my mom, you would have already. You put a brand on my-... on Isaac. You  _ claimed him.” _

“My mother had a, um, a gun to his head,” Danny said, softly, and tried finally to pull his arm away. “I didn’t know what else to do-”

“So if this plan tonight didn’t work, what were you going to do? Just keep him and fuck him into the ground and tell him how goddamn  _ sorry  _ you were for all the time you’re going to spend buried in him?” Gavin glanced over his shoulder, back at the house, and then shoved Danny hard.

He didn’t have the balance to catch himself, and Danny landed flat on his back, the breath knocked out of him, his head bouncing against the gravel driveway. Danny’s heart was racing, pouring adrenaline into his system, and he could hear some small part of his own mind starting to whisper  _ not again, not again, not again. _

“N-No, we would have… have figured s-something out, I just-” Danny managed to push himself up to sitting, but Gavin grabbed his arm again and dragged him onto his knees. When he looked up, he saw the expression again, the one he knew.

A rush of blood to the face, eyes locked on his, nearly a flash of a smile.

Gavin was enjoying this.

If he stood up, he’d tower over the other man, but he… couldn’t. He couldn’t seem to move his legs, to unbend his knees. He  _ knew  _ the look on Gavin’s face - and he’d known it was Gavin Stormbeck the team was hiding with them the second he’d heard that, that thing Gavin had said at the table and his own mouth had been forced to sound out those words, too. He was staring Gavin Stormbeck in the face, and Gavin Stormbeck’s playthings didn’t survive.

“You would have kept him,” Gavin said softly. “And I’d never see him again, if you did that. If you kept him. He’s not yours to  _ fuck,  _ Michaelson son. The Stormbecks claimed him  _ first-...  _ no, fuck my family,  _ I claimed Isaac Moore first!” _

“He’s… he’s not yours, either,” Danny said, but his voice was getting airless and whispery, fading away. When Gavin leaned over him, he cringed back, and Gavin’s eyes lit up. He  _ crackled  _ with energy, like Danny’s mom did after she came up from the basement. Gavin’s eyes didn’t glow, but the bloodlust was the same. “He’s not  _ yours-” _

“Yeah, I fucking know that, you stupid shit.” Gavin paused, and then smiled - cruel, and amused. “You fucking  _ puppy.” _

Danny froze.

“I know he’s not mine,” Gavin said, grabbing Danny by the hair and jerking his head back, exposing his neck, letting out almost a chuckle when Danny didn’t fight, only stayed frozen in place, gravel digging into his knees. “I get it. And I’m not going to… I could never hurt him, now, you know? Because they won’t… they won’t forgive me, even though I’m better, I’ve changed. You know? I’m fucking  _ trying!  _ And they don’t give a fuck. But… but I just-... I’m  _ better,  _ I renounced my goddamn family, and we come here and the first fucking thing he does is get himself fucked into the mattress by another goddamn  _ Syndicate son!” _

Danny’s head snapped to the side - he hadn’t seen the slap coming until Gavin hit him with his other hand. Burst of heat and pain, a light behind his eyes. Familiar, agonizingly familiar. 

Cold fingers, a palm made of ice on the back of his neck. Danny felt himself begin to shake. “Ab-... Abraham,” He whispered, barely able to make the sound to form the name. “Abraham, n-no-... no, I’m s-sorry-”

_ You’re not trying hard enough, puppy. You’re not being good, don’t you want to be good for me? _

“Why  _ you?”  _ Gavin sighed, leaning down, grabbing Danny’s hair again to force him to meet his eyes. He kept… slipping and sliding, in and out - and there was blond hair but not, and cold fingers only warm. Danny wasn’t sure who he was looking at, any longer - Gavin or a ghost. “You’re weak as shit. You baked us fucking welcome cookies, for fuck’s sake! You look like a stretched-out scarecrow and you turn those big fucking eyes on everybody and they all  _ melt,  _ for you!”

Gavin tilted his head, looking down at Danny, who stared back, barely able to breathe around the way he could feel his collar buckled on too tightly. Gavin had paid Abraham, so he had an hour, and the only rule was that Danny had to survive it-

“When you get in there, you’ll be all sorry, and they’ll tell you it’s okay. They’ll  _ forgive you, _ Michaelson son. No, wait-... puppy. They’ll  _ forgive  _ the puppy. That fucked you up before pretty badly, huh?” Gavin let go of his hair - finally, finally let go - but before he could move the other man had dropped into a crouch in front of him. “They’ll forgive you for  _ claiming him.  _ They’ll forgive you for  _ branding him.  _ They’ll forgive you, because you’re so sorry and you’re such a sad sack of shit, but they won’t forgive  _ me.  _ And you’ll go back home and your mother will forgive you, for letting him go, won’t she?”

Danny stared at him, blankly. 

_ Answer the man, Red.  _

“Y-yes,” Danny stammered, Abraham’s breath cold against his ear, his body a weight against Danny’s cold. Cold fingers closed around his throat, over the collar, and he swallowed against it, letting a ghost raise his chin to meet Gavin’s eyes again, holding him there. “Yes, sir, she w-will…”

“Sir?” Gavin blinked, looking surprised, and then sat back on his heels. His breath hitched, got lost somewhere in his throat, and Abraham forced Danny to watch the flush in his face. “Oh, shit, you’re deep in it, now. Your mom will forgive you, and you know what? Mine won’t forgive me. I fucked up her stupid little plan to use me as bait, to get me killed so she can have vengeance, and it’s just-... why do you get the loving fucking family, huh? Why do you get to fuck Isaac? Why does he forgive you for shit, and he won’t forgive me for anything, huh? I just… I think I know why. Because you’re  _ useless.  _ He thinks he’s useless, so he finds someone who  _ really is.” _

_ Look at the Syndicate bitch - not so tough now, are you? _

“You’re shit at being one of  _ us,  _ for sure,” Gavin said, voice softer. He reached out to brush the backs of his knuckles against Danny’s cheek, over the scar there. Abraham pushed him forward and Danny did what the cold wanted him to, ducking his head into the touch, watching Gavin’s eyes as they narrowed, then widened again. “You can’t be Syndicate like this. Everyone knows what happened to you. You’re a cautionary fucking tale, hiding out in your parents’ summer home being a weak little shit… and you can’t fight the Syndicates, either. So what fucking good are you? Just like me.” Gavin smirks, bitter and humorless, cupping Danny’s cheek with his hand. “We’re just the same, huh? Fucking useless to everyone now. But he  _ likes you,  _ and I don’t understand  _ why.” _

“I… I don’t know, sir.”

Gavin took in another breath, audibly, and his thumb played lightly over Danny’s lower lip. “You know, I didn’t get it, for the longest time. I just… didn’t fucking get it. But looking at you…” The rough pad of his thumb pressed lightly against thin, sensitive skin, and Danny swallowed a reflexive rush of saliva. “Open up for a  _ real man, _ puppy.”

Danny opened his mouth and Gavin slid his thumb between his lips, pressing down against his tongue. Danny closed around it and, with Abraham’s voice in his ears, he lifted his tongue to push against the taste of salt and skin.

“Jesus Christ,” Gavin whispered. “You fucking  _ like this.” _

_ No, I hate it, I hate this, please don’t make me do this anymore, please- _

_ This is all you are, Red. What you were made to be. Not hard to make a born whore like it, hm?  _ Abraham’s laughter echoed around inside his head, and Danny couldn’t think any longer. He was good - he  _ wanted _ to be good - and if he was good, Nate would clean him up later. He’d get to eat.

He dropped forwards onto his hands and knees, keeping his eyes locked on Gavin’s, as the thumb was replaced by two fingers, pressing far against the back of his mouth, nearly to his throat.

“Jesus  _ fuck.  _ No, I think I get what my dad was doing, now,” Gavin said, eyes fluttering closed and then opening again. Danny wasn’t sure who Gavin was - a face, a name, hands and a body. Money paid to Abraham or Ashley, another fire in Nate’s eyes that couldn’t be put out and he couldn’t do anything with. 

“Like, that’s not  _ me,  _ but I get it. I guess I see what Isaac got to see, huh?” He smirked, but some of the amusement was gone, replaced by a darker expression. Gavin pulled his fingers nearly out and then pushed them in again, pressing down hard on Danny’s tongue. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Doesn’t fucking matter. You’re a broken fucking  _ dog _ and he still wants  _ you  _ and not me. You get the family-” He hit the back of Danny’s throat, almost jabbed it. “You get  _ Isaac-”  _ Another jab, and there were tears in Danny’s eyes, but he was  _ good,  _ he didn’t pull back, just let them fall. “And I’m on the run, and I have nothing, and you don’t  _ deserve _ to get all the shit I don’t get to have, you stupid son of a-”

“What the  _ fuck  _ are you doing?” Gavin’s hand snapped back and Danny gasped, turning his head to see a woman he didn’t know already there, grabbing Gavin by the hair and yanking him back and away. It wasn’t Ashey - this woman had brown skin and dark eyes and black hair, and she had a fire in her the way Nate did.

“What the everloving fucking  _ shit,  _ bitchboy?” The woman snarled the words, she didn’t speak them, and Danny flinched back and away, letting out a soft whine, feeling himself push into Abraham’s touch. Safer sometimes than the guests, because Abraham cared if he died. The woman turned to stare down at Danny, still holding a struggling, protesting Gavin by the hair, with an effortlessly iron grip. She met Danny’s eyes, and her own widened, slightly. Some of the initial rush of her fury died. “Wh… what the fuck, Gavin.”

The woman’s voice dropped, at the last sentence, went deeper and far more dangerous.

“What. Did. You.  _ Do.” _

“Nothing!” Gavin managed to free himself, stumbling away, raking his hand back through his hair. “I didn’t do shit! He got all fucked up like that and he came onto me!”

The woman let out a harsh, humorless, barking laugh. “You can’t possibly expect me to be that much of a fucking idiot.”

“He’s on drugs or something! That shit that Vandrum asshole gave Isaac! All I did was, was kind of yell at him for hurting Issac and he just fucking broke down!” Gavin’s eyes were wide, he was frightened of the woman, babbling, and Danny was, too. Gavin had paid Abraham, and was going to hurt him, and if he was scared of the woman...

“Somehow I fucking doubt that!”

“Vera?” Another man, and someone behind him that was shorter, with curly hair, walking towards them. The man seemed to be weak on his feet, the shorter person grabbing at his arm to help him. He looked like maybe he wouldn’t hurt Danny so much, would maybe be the kind that wanted him to like it. “What’s going on?”

Danny felt his heart drop. All of them? All at once?

_ You’ve done it before, puppy,  _ Abraham murmured, gently encouraging, tipping up his chin for a brush of cold lips against his _. You can do it again. _

“Pretty sure Gavin fucking  _ triggered _ Daniel Michaelson-”

“My name is Red,” Danny said quickly, as he felt the cold hands clench tighter into his hair. He’ll be in trouble, he’s not supposed to have that name anymore, he has to be  _ good.  _ “M-My name is Red and I belong to, to, um, to-”

_ Take your time, puppy, that’s all right… we have all the time in the world, now. _

“I belong to Abraham Denner,” He finished in a whisper, and dropped his head as Abraham petted through his hair. His knees hurt from kneeling in the gravel but he wasn’t done, and it was going to hurt so much more before it was over for tonight.

“Oh, shit.” The woman moved in front of him, after shooting one more glare at Gavin. When she reached out, Danny flinched back from her hand.

_ Don’t flinch, puppy. Breaking the rules again... _

“N-No, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Abraham! I’ll, I’ll try harder, I can-” Danny looked up at the woman, whose face had gone pale. She took a couple of steps back away from him. “I can do better,” Danny finished in a whisper. “I can try harder, I can do better than this, for you, I can, pl-please, let me t-try… I, I can be good for everyone, I can… I’ll be good…”

“Oh, fuck,” The woman said, her hand dropping down to her side. Fear overtook the fury, fear and a strange blankness. “Oh, fuck,  _ no.” _

“It’s not my fault!” Gavin said, but no one was looking at him now. “I didn’t do this!”

_ “Damn _ it,” The kinder male voice said. “Sam, help me over there. My legs still have some ideas my brain doesn’t like.”

The curly-haired one - Sam, Danny thought, the woman is Vera and the curly-haired person is Sam and they usually didn’t tell him names, he was only supposed to say Sir or Ma’am - frowned and looked back over their shoulder. “We should get his boyfriend, right?”

“Nate’s in with Gray drawing a map. I just… give me a second, I know what to do.”

“I sure fucking hope so,” The dark-haired woman said, her voice caught in her throat, half-strangled there. “I c-can’t-... can’t listen to this, if he… if he says that again-”

“I can be good for, for you,” Danny said, desperately, certain he was in trouble but not sure what he’d done wrong. Sometimes it was nothing - it didn’t really matter. Abraham would punish him anyway.

“Stop,” The woman said, taking a step back, uncertainly. “Please stop saying that.”

“Go inside, Vera. Get Gavin inside and tell Tori. We’ll… work out what happened in a minute, just let me talk to him first. Go inside and grab Nate and tell him Danny needs some, some help, okay?”

“M-My name is Red…”

The dark-haired woman nodded and grabbed Gavin by the arm in a vice grip, dragging him protesting and whining towards the house. “I should fucking kill you, someone needs to let me  _ fucking kill you,”  _ She hissed at him, and the protests went silent. The door opened and closed again, and Danny was alone in the driveway with the curly hair and the other one.

Two was easier. Two wouldn’t be so bad.

When they made it to him, Danny kept himself still - Abraham’s hand on the back of his neck was a constant reminder to be  _ good.  _

“Wh… what do we do?” The curly-haired one asked, nervously. “What do we do about him? Or, or should we even-... I mean-”

“I’ll help him. Just… help me get onto the ground, okay?” Danny was eye-to-eye with a man he knew, somehow, but he couldn’t place. From before he was taken, maybe, before he was someone else. Soft, kind eyes on his. Maybe he’d had this man before - it felt like he had, like he knew him that way. Sometimes they pretended to be nice, for a while… He reached up to touch his face, and Danny leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Abraham didn’t have to make him.

He knew this man, somehow, from somewhere.

“I trusted you to get me out of there,” The man said, gently, rubbing a thumb over the scar on his cheekbone. “Can you-... can you trust me to get you out, too?”

“Isaac-...” The curly-haired one had a hand on the other man’s shoulder, still, pressing close against him. “Are, are you sure…”

“I’m sure.” Two hands, now, warm on the sides of Danny’s face. He closed his eyes and felt thumbs over his cheekbones, warm palms that cupped his skin. The icy fingertips that trailed along his neck were fainter, suddenly. Faded. 

The man’s thumbs began to rub in circles, down the side of his face, until his palms curved around Danny’s neck just under his ear and the thumbs were circling over the dip in Danny’s jaw, into the divot of skin the muzzle had carved out of him and back again, over and over.

“It’s okay,” The man said, his voice slightly sing-song. “It’s okay. You’re not there anymore, Danny.”

“My name is-”

“Ssshhhhhh, it’s okay. Just listen to me, for a minute.”

“What are you doing, Isaac?” The voice was hushed, nervous.

“What Nate did the first night we were at that house. He talked to him, and he rubbed at his face just… like… this…” The thumbs kept circling, and Danny felt his breathing slowing, his heartbeat slowly calming. He kept his eyes closed, focused on the graze of fingers.  _ Jaw-dip-jaw _ , again and again. Just like Nate. 

“There we go. You’re not there anymore. They’re dead. Just… it’s okay, Danny, it’s okay. I’m Isaac, and you’re right here in… I have no idea where we are, actually… but you’re not there any longer. It’s just us, right now. Just us here. No one is going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you, here, it’s just you and me right now…”

“I-Isaac,” Danny said, and the word moved like molasses from his mouth, but it made  _ sense.  _ Isaac. He’d stepped into the kitchen and Danny had seen him and known he was hurt, too, had been held. Just at the way he looked. Known that Isaac could see it on him, too, that they’d recognized something in each other.

“Right, you’re Danny, and I’m Isaac.”

Isaac, who had come downstairs after a nightmare to find Danny already up and drinking away his own. Had tucked a little bit of hair behind his ear, and kissed him, and would have let Danny have him right there on his back on the couch if Danny had been able to, to do that with anyone…

“Isaac,” Danny repeated, eyes still closed.

Isaac, the morning after the first night they’d spent with him, moving against and then into Danny and breathing hard in his ear, whispering wonderful things that were half-nonsense, half-laughter under the covers.

_ Why didn’t you just ask me to stay? _

“Didn’t know that was, um, an option,” Danny muttered, and felt Isaac’s fingers on him still, for just a second, before they started moving again.

“There he is,” Isaac said softly. “Look at me, okay? You’re not in the dark. We’re right here.”

Danny opened his eyes, and found Isaac leaning in, inches away from him, watching him with careful, concerned eyes. He felt exhausted, weighted down by the memories that had been in control, but… empty of them, too. Like he always felt, just afterward. “Isaac,” He breathed out, and reached up to lay his hands over Isaac’s, where they still rested against his face. “I-I didn’t-... I’m sorry…”

“I know,” Isaac said, quietly, and leaned in, kissing Danny’s forehead, the tip of his nose. “I know you are. I know it wasn’t your fault. I just… I forgive you.”

_ They’ll forgive the puppy. _

“Don’t,” Danny said, shaking his head, trying to pull away, but Isaac held him still, pulled him in and hugged him, strong warm arms around his ribs, just under his shoulders. “Don’t, don’t forgive me, don’t… I didn’t, um, I shouldn’t have-... shouldn’t have, have wanted you…”

“It’s okay,” Isaac said, gently, and after a second, another set of arms closed around Danny. He jumped, until he realized it was Sam, who rested their head on Danny’s left shoulder, eyes closed, curly hair tickling the side of Danny’s face. His skin started to crawl at the unwanted touch, but then… it stopped, because Sam was really just a part of Isaac, and Danny hesitantly slid an arm around them, too. “It’s okay, we don’t need to talk about… about that right now.”

“But we won’t, won’t get to again. I just want, um, want to… apologize and I can’t, there’s not enough… not enough to make up for it, ever…”

“Yeah,” Isaac said softly, and kissed him. “That’s kind of our life. We keep trying, though.”

The door opened again, and Danny knew Nate’s footsteps on gravel the way he knew the breath in his own lungs, opening his eyes to turn and look and see the whole group of them - and he knew them, again, their names and faces. Vera, with her girlfriend holding onto her tightly. Finn and Ellis, holding onto each other. Gray at the lead, with Nate just beside him, and Gavin shoved by Vera to keep up with them.

“Oh, thank G-God,” Nate said softly, seeing Danny kneeling still in the driveway with Sam and Isaac holding onto him. Then, the softness left, replaced by the same hard, diamond-sharp anger that Danny had watched grow in him day by day, month by month, year by year.

He turned, looking back at Gavin, and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him forwards.

“Mr. Vandrum-” Gray said, their face calm, but their eyes were worried and uncertain of what would happen next. “If you could-”

“I w-won’t kill him,” Nate said derisively, and Gavin groaned at the pain in his wrist as Nate twisted it hard to force him down onto one knee. It seemed effortless, when Nate did it with his good hand, strength he had worked hard to build. “I promise.”

Gray swallowed, but slowly nodded.

Nate leaned down, looking Gavin in the eyes. “I keep my promises,” He said softly, without even a hint of stammer. “I have killed for him. I will kill for him again. I have hunted down every last motherfucker I can find who hurt him. I watched for  _ four years,  _ Gavin Stormbeck. I know their faces. I know their names. I can tell you what each of them did to him and how. I can tell you how many times… how  _ many times…  _ it was your father’s name they called him, or  _ yours.” _

Gavin’s face was white and pale as a moon in the midnight darkness. “Wh-what?”

“You have a whole fucking fanclub of people who hate you,” Nate said in his deep, rumbling voice. “And I’m their goddamn president right now. You’re lucky-... so _ fucking lucky _ that these people care about you. Because if they didn’t, I would kill you right here for touching Danny.”

“I could help you fucking bury him,” Vera snapped.

“That would take too long, just, like, light a bonfire,” Finn muttered, before Ellis elbowed them in the ribs.

“Don’t walk away from them,” Nate whispered, closer and closer to Gavin’s face. Danny could barely hear him. “If they stop protecting you, Gavin Stormbeck, they stop protecting you from  _ me.  _ If I h-hear about you, out there, unprotected… I know your face. I kn-know your n-n-name. And I know when C-Corrine Michaelson is  _ hungry.” _

“What?” Gavin whispered, eyes wide. “What… what the fuck does that mean?”

“Fuck with Isaac or Danny,  _ ever again,  _ and y-y-you’ll find out.”

“Nate-” Danny managed, voice caught.

“Yeah.” Nate straightened up, rolling his head around on his neck a little to relax it. “Let’s g-g-go. We need to g-g-get back home before d-dawn.”

“What’s… will they be looking for me?” Isaac asked, nervously, and Danny turned to look back at him. Danny disentangled himself from Isaac and Sam’s arms, pushing himself - swaying, but strong - to his feet and leaning down to help Isaac and Sam stand up, too. 

“Officially, you’re going to, um, be shot dead at the edge of our property,” Danny said quietly. “It’ll take everyone a few days to, um, realize it wasn’t really you.”

“You’re going to  _ kill someone for-...  _ you can’t do that,” Isaac’s eyes went wide.

Danny grabbed onto his hands, shushing him, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Not a real person. You asked if my Syndicate is human?”

Isaac slowly nodded.

Danny shrugged, an odd one-shouldered motion, and then pulled away. “Well… I am.”

Nate and Danny were back in the car, had pulled out spitting gravel and were long gone by the time Sam, standing next to Isaac, asked, “... what did you mean, are they human?”

“Actually… wait. Are they not human?” That was Tori. “Because… that would explain a lot about Ryan Michaelson.” She and Vera shared a look, both of their faces a little bit red.

“Oh my god,” Sam said softly, their eyes going suddenly wide. Then they blushed, seemingly from the roots of their hair to the tips of their toes. “It  _ would _ explain a lot about, um, about Ryan’s… about Ryan.”

“Can we talk about this in the car?” Gray asked, voice even, but an amused smile was trying to make its way onto their face. “Not everything needs to be shared all the time-”

Isaac blinked and turned to stare at them. “Gray, did you  _ know _ the Michaelsons aren’t human?”

Gray swallowed, and shrugged. “I… I knew  _ Daniel  _ is.”

“That does _ not  _ answer my question!”


	19. Epilogue, in which Gavin is a dumbass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind, Gavin is not this big an asshole in the canon!

“Isaac, we need to go.” Vera’s voice was soft and low as he stared after Nate’s car as he sped away with Danny. He turned his head a little to acknowledge her, but his eyes stayed fixed on the car.

He felt her next to him, felt her warmth. A soft hand on his shoulder. He finally turned to face her. He had tears in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Isaac,” she murmured.

He licked his lips and blew out a slow breath. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice pulled tight into a sob.

She pulled him into a hug. “No, it’s not. And that’s okay.” She kept her head away from the bandage on his neck. He shuddered against her and folded into her arms.

“I thought –”

“I know,” she soothed.

“He…” Isaac buried his face in her shoulder. “I thought he claimed me. I thought he used me. I thought he… he didn’t _care._ And he did. He cared enough to get me out. Walked through the basement with me. He… he took…” He swallowed and more tears wet her shoulder. “He took that sedative for me. He… he pushed a gun away from my head…” He trembled as his chest swelled in another sob.

“I know,” she murmured against his shirt.

“I thought… I thought it was all a lie. That… that he just wanted… wanted to…” He gasped with sobs.

Vera pulled him closer. “But he didn’t. He liked you. He _cared_ about you. He never wanted to hurt you. You need to remember that.”

Isaac clutched at Vera’s waist and muffled a weak wail in her shirt. “I thought I could have something good,” he whimpered. “I thought I could have something that didn’t hurt.”

“And you did,” she said gently. “You did, for a little while.”

He nodded weakly and closed his eyes. He let her hold him.

His tears stopped after a while and he pulled back. He scrubbed his face with his sleeve and saw her doing the same. He turned back to the house. “Sorry. Let’s get the others and go.”

They all must have been watching out the window. Before he reached the door it opened and everyone stepped out, carrying only what they had had on them when Nate had told them to run. Sam came out with wide eyes. They went right to him and pulled him into a hug.

He pressed a kiss against the top of their head. “We should go.”

They pulled away and nodded. Isaac looked up at the others. They headed for the car. Gavin came last.

Gavin’s face was pinched with some dark emotion Isaac couldn’t place. His eyes looked glassy, almost like they were filled with tears. His mouth twisted into a bitter grimace. He shuffled along behind the others with his shoulders hunched forward.

Rancor curdled in Isaac’s stomach. _Danny saved me and Gavin still had to hurt him._ As Gavin reached the car, Isaac stepped forward and squared up with him.

“What is your _problem?”_ he growled.

Gavin’s eyes flicked up to him with a ripple of fear. Gavin swallowed. “Um.”

“He saved me,” Isaac said in a low and dangerous voice. He felt the others freeze around him. “His _mother_ is the one that claimed me, and Danny _saved_ me. I’d be _dead_ right now if it weren’t for him, or at the very least chained up in her fucking _basement._ She’d be torturing me for information about _you,_ Gavin _Stormbeck._ So why did you have to take the thing that… why did you have to hurt the person who _saved me from her?”_

Gavin’s throat bobbed. “I…”

Isaac took a step closer. Gavin took a step back.

“I thought I was going to be a plaything again, and it _broke me,”_ Isaac snarled. “I thought I was going to live the rest of my life the way you kept me. _Hurt me._ I thought it was happening all over again. I thought I was going to be tortured again by a syndicate son. Someone just like _you.”_

Gavin held his hands out in front of him. “Isaac…”

“How can you be angry at him when you’re the one who broke me first? How can you say you cared that he claimed me, when you’re the reason I’m covered in scars? You burned me. Just because you didn’t _brand_ me…” Isaac’s skin shuddered at the memory. “But you marked me _so much worse.”_

Gavin’s eyes were wide. His voice rose to a desperate whine. “Please…”

Isaac’s hands closed around the front of Gavin’s shirt as he closed the distance between them. “Why do you care so _fucking much_ what happens to me when you’re the one who tortured me?”

Gavin shoved Isaac’s hands away from his shirt. “Because I didn’t know I _loved you then!”_

Isaac’s breath froze in his chest. “… _what?”_

Gavin’s had his hands over his mouth like he’d just spoken a mortal sin. He shook his head and backed away from Isaac.

Isaac took another step forward. “What the _fuck did you say?”_

Gavin trembled. “I…”

“Did you just say you…” Isaac wet his lips. “Did you just say… that?”

“Um…” Gavin’s eyes flicked to the others.

“How… _why?”_

Gavin’s mouth fell open. “Why… Are you _kidding?”_

Isaac blinked. “I… don’t…”

“Why do I… um…” Gavin’s face fell into his hands. “Have you _looked_ at yourself?”

Isaac flushed red. “You like me because you think I’m… _pretty?”_

Gavin’s eyes rolled to the brightening sky. _“No,_ you _idiot…”_

“Then…” Isaac spread his hands in disbelief. “What…”

“You’re _good,_ Isaac,” Gavin sighed at him, exasperated. “You’re so, just…” Gavin squeezed his hands into fists in front of him. “You’re just so _fucking_ good, it drives me _absolutely_ fucking insane. How you’ll… how you just… fucking _give yourself,_ how you protect us and you’re so fucking nice to _everyone…_ except _me!_ After everything, you went and slept with some fucking syndicate son like his name doesn’t even _matter,_ like he’s not _exactly the same as me…”_

Isaac’s face darkened. “He’s not the same. He never hurt me. He never tortured me. He’s the one who was tortured.”

“What, and you found someone else as broken as you think you are and you figured, ‘sure, whatever, guess I’ll let this one fuck me’?”

Isaac swallowed. “What do you mean… as I _think_ I am?”

Gavin threw his hands up. “You’re not broken, Isaac, you _dumbass._ You’re so fucking strong it drives me nuts. I just…” Isaac was shocked to see _tears_ shining on Gavin’s cheeks. “I just… I gave up _everything_ for you, I left my family, I left my name, I left my _life,_ because my mom offered to give you to me and I just… _couldn’t!”_ Gavin swiped his sleeve angrily across his face. “And I hoped, it was _stupid_ but I just _hoped_ that maybe you could forget –” Gavin’s mouth snapped shut. “Not… not forget. But if you could… if you could just… _see_ that I’ve changed, that I’m better… If you could just _see_ how much I care about you, and I always _have,_ I just didn’t understand it before…” Gavin’s voice trailed off in a miserable whine.

“If I could… _what?”_ Isaac knew the answer. He didn’t want to hear it, but he knew it.

Gavin stared miserably at the ground. “If you could just… _see_ how much I care about you, maybe you would… _love me_ the way you loved that syndicate _prick.”_

Isaac’s mouth hung open. He felt empty with shock. His body felt numb. His legs were still wobbly from what Nate had given him… _What did he call it?_ Isaac remembered asking. He remembered Nate told him, but couldn’t recall the word. The sounds. It was all so confused.

“But… why… would you hurt Danny? If he’s the one who… saved me… you should be…”

“Because I’m fucking mad at him!” Gavin shouted. “Because he’s so fucking _sweet,_ he’s fucking… broken and I wanted you to be mine, for _months_ I wanted you to be _mine…”_

Gavin crumpled and burst into sobs.

_What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, WHAT THE FUCK._

“Gavin, we…” Isaac’s mouth was dry. “We have to go,” he said a little weakly.

“No fucking _shit,”_ Gavin sobbed miserably. “Because now we’re on the run from my mom _and_ his fucking horror-movie mom… What are they, anyway? Ryan’s not –”

“Not like her,” Isaac said quickly. “I’m telling you, Ryan’s not like her. They’re not the same.” Isaac looked around, a little dazed, still reeling from the shock. “G-Gray?”

Gray kept their eyes pointed at the ground. “I don’t know,” they murmured. “We should really get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the time of my life writing this with Ash. I hope you all enjoyed it, too.


End file.
